Barneyisfat

Fearless - 2nd sermon in a series of 4 on the book of Revelation

2012-02-14T04:18:00.000-08:00

This is my 666th post on blogspot. I genuinely considered posting a blank post in order to avoid having one of my posts be number 666 ... but, oddly enough, that mentality gets to the heart of this entire sermon series. The book of Revelation has been misused and misinterpreted to scare people into line - but Revelation is part of the canon and it is a continuation of the great love letter from God to God's people. We are unafraid.

Revelation 7:9-14

"After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, "Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!" And all the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, saying, "Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen." Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, "Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?" I said to him, "Sir, you know." And he said to me, "These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb."

I didn't start reading the Bible until I was a teenager. I read the gospels and some of the shorter books first. I was really enjoying reading through the Bible. Then I figured I should read the final book. I made it past the first few pages before I stopped.

It was like going to the movie theater to watch Titanic and part way through Saw II starts showing instead. In Swahili. What was that? Really? What is that even supposed to mean?

I finished reading the book of Revelation eventually. I didn't enjoy it and I didn't learn from it. It was bizarre and frightening somehow.

It wasn't until I was in my twenties that I had a really wonderful pastor explain Revelation to me in a way I could understand. She stated very clearly, "Revelation was written as a book of hope for a persecuted church."

One of my favorite movies involves a court scene. The two defendents have been accused of murder and their non-traditional attorney is trying to prove that they are innocent. The evidence against them is overwhelming. There are several eyewitnesses who saw them fleeing the scene of the crime.

Their attorney discredits each of the witnesses one by one. He proves that one witness needs glasses by moving to the back of the courtroom and asking her how many fingers he is holding up. He discredits another witness by showing the layers of obstacles between his house and the scene of the crime. He showed how dirty his windows were, and all the trees and bushes blocking his view.

When we read the book of Revelation, our view is blocked substantially. We have two thousand years of time seperating us from the cultural, political, and ethnographic climate of the time. Not only have we never been to the places mentioned in this book, we don't know the people or even how they really lived. We don't understand the politics in play. And perhaps most importantly we don't understand the level of persecution the church was experiencing at the time.

That same pastor explained that "When comfortable Christians get their hands on this book - they do incredibly frightening and strange things with it."

As 21st century Christians, we have seen this book be exploited to prove all sorts of falsehoods. We have seen corrupt leaders use fear to coerce people by highlighting terrifying passages. They have taken images out of context and have tried to scare people into believing in Jesus. They have tried to gain more power for themselves by manipulating the more confusing parts of this book.

I was at a gathering of young people - it was hosted by a church and the man preaching had pretty extreme views. He preached for thirty minutes from the book of Revelation and he highlighted all the parts about Hell and damnation. He mentioned politicians that he didn't like and compared them to the whore of Babylon, the anti-Christ, and other evil players from this book. He mentioned the names of politicians he did like and he compared them to the two witnesses and the victorious in this book. And he continued on with the text and ensured the terrified group of young people that the end of times was any day now - and choosing one narrow, new interpretation of the final events of the Bible he screamed at those young people that Muslims and Atheists were taking over Americ and that soon we would be asked if we believed in Jesus and if we answered, "Yes" that our new leaders would kill us for this answer. He closed out his sermon by asking the frightened group to stand up if they would be willing to die, right now, for believing in Jesus.

The faithful from his small church quickly jumped to their feet - they were used to being terrified during sermons and they knew the right response. The rest of the youth slowly got to their feet - they were partially terrified of giving the wrong answer, partially terrified that the nutjob at the front of the room was going to start actually killing people, and partially afraid that their friends who were watching would think they weren't good enough Christians. The preacher really pushed and he said, "I want you to sit down if you don't really mean it. If you're not 100% sure that you would be willing to die for Christ right now - then I want you to sit back down."

Of course no one was going to be the first to sit back down and prove that they aren't a strong enough Christian. I was one of the leaders - and although I knew at the time that my honest answer would have been "I don't know!"; I kept on standing because I felt that I needed my students to think I was a great Christian.

As I think back to that day, I wish I has sat back down. I wish I had shown the courage to be honest with my students and admit that at the time I really wasn't sure if I could be a martyr. But also I wish that someone would have been brave enough to stand up to the bully in the pulpit.

The bully in the pulpit was asking those students the wrong question. Probably, none of those students will ever be put in a position where they must choose to die for Jesus. No one will ever hold a gun to their head and ask them if they believe. But every day they will be faced with the question of whether they will live for Christ.

Most days, Christ isn't calling us to die for him - he's calling us to live for him.

Every day you will face a situation that calls out the question, "Will you live for Christ?" Will you retell that racist joke, join everyone else in laughing at the outcast kid, or will you choose to live for Christ? Will you take a job that goes against your conscience or will you choose to trust Christ?

When I planned out this sermon, I had grand ideas of sharing wonderful stories of people who have died for their faith. I wanted the stories of Father Omelian Kovch, Corrie ten Boom, the apostles, and others who faced the final question and chose Christ over life itself. But as I began to think about things more, I couldn't ask you to compare yourself to those people in those situations.

If the situation came up, I'm not certain that I would be willing to die for my faith. I would like to think that I would, but I can't be certain. Even as a missionary and a leader in the church; I'm not very good at living out my faith. I mess up so very much and ignore my faith and better judgement so often. I would hope that I would be willing to die for my faith - but to prove that to myself I must be willing to live for my faith.

When I was born, there were many complications and my mother almost died. For years she underwent a series of back surgeries. It was unbearably painful for her to stand or sit. Mom had a friend from church named Althea, and every week for those painful years Althea would show up and say, "I'm here to clean the bathrooms." Cleaning the bathrooms would have been an impossibility for my mother, but for Althea it was a joy to come and help my mother as she raised two small children in difficult circumstances. Will we live for Christ?

My friends Bob and Ruth are like my second parents. Bob is a pastor and in his forty years of ministry he has served many churches and ministries very well. His wife, Ruth, is a trained teacher and counselor. She has a very good education. When Bob ended up in our central office building to help administer the life of the church, Ruth decided that she wanted a job where she could connect with young people. Although her training and experience could have landed her any number of high-paying jobs in her field, she took a job as a waitress at a popular restaurant. To many of the young waiters and waitresses Ruth has become the mom or grandma that they never had. She counsels them and helps them understand life. She talks openly about her faith, and many of the young people who had never been connected to faith are interested to hear her story. She doesn't make much money, and the work is pretty terrible - but Ruth is happy to be light in a dark world. Will we live for Christ?

This great cloud of witnesses all dressed in white referenced in today's scripture passage can be compared to being present in a church just filled with icons. All around you will be familiar faces of the faith - the apostles, church fathers, and martyrs of the faith - but also faces so much more familiar to you. We will be surrounded by those who lived out their faith every day. We will be surrounded by friends and family who spoke out on behalf of the poor and the marginalized. We will know the faces on that day of those who took unpopular positions and demanded equality for all people. We will see the faces of heroes of our faith of whom we have never heard.

We will be surrounded by the haloed faces of "God's littlests" - all of those who served, prayed, and loved with all that they had and never received an ounce of thanks or appreciation on this side of heaven.

One day a national politician showed up at Puzata Hata. As he was going through the line, one of the women working gave him a piece of fish that he ordered. He looked at her and said, "That other piece in the pan is much bigger, can I have that one instead? The woman looked at him, set his plate down and began serving the next customer. The politician was indignant. "Do you know who I am? I am a very well known politician. I am very important and serve on several committees. Now do you want to give me that bigger piece of fish?" The woman looked at him and said, "Do you know who I am? I am the woman dishing out the fish."

This world tells us to stand up proudly for who we are - to list our accomplishments and rewards as often as we can. The Gospel teaches us to stand up for whose we are - to point to Christ and to deny ourselves at every opportunity. To be a loud and clear voice for the Kingdom of God, and to use words only when we really have to. God's littlest can't help but have holes in the knees of their jeans - from praying on their knees and stooping to scrub floors in humble service.

Nate Saint, a missionary and a martyr once said, "People who do not know the Lord ask why in the world we waste our lives in Christian service to the world. They forget that they too are expending their lives ... and when the bubble has burst, they will have nothing of eternal significance to show for the years they have wasted."

Dear friends, every action we take / every word we say / every accomplishment we achieve; they all point to the reality of our beliefs. Do we believe that God is real? Do we believe that God is love? Do we believe that God is working through us to redeem the world? Do we believe the Gospel message of Jesus Christ or do we believe the lies of this world? Do we believe that we must work 70 hours a week to have enough money to buy a bigger apartment to fill with stuff that we don't care about to show off to friends we don't really like? Do we believe that or do we believe that God has better for us?

God calls us to live fearlessly. This day I won't ask if you are willing to die for Christ - I will simply ask, Are you willing to live for Christ.

Amen.

2012-02-07T02:28:00.000-08:00

Look at how Ukrainian my life is.

These are from a concert from the final day of the Christmas season. Really sad to see the month of festivities come to an end. Now it's time for some work!

Apolitical

2012-01-31T04:31:00.000-08:00

I really should stay out of politics.

Really, I know I should. I get in all kinds of trouble when I get involved in political situations. I have nerve damage in my hands from the handcuffs if you can't think of any other good example.

The problem is: I'm good at politics. I enjoy a good debate and I have a real skill for it. I'm good at working out a compromise and making sure that everyone leaves the table happy. I've been known to throw out an impassioned speech from time to time. I think I would be a good politician.

I can answer a question without answering the question.

But I feel that when I get political, that I leave part of myself behind. I get swept up in the moment and I forget the things that really matter to me. I think this is true of most politicians.

While I'm really surprised to see that conservative Christians would gladly throw their support behind a candidate of a different religion; I think that religion doesn't matter. You can't be a good politician and a devout anything. In order to get to the places of prominence and importance in todays world - you have to be willing to betray that which you once cared about.

You have to be willing to crush your opponent with power and strength. That doesn't sound very Christian.

Christianity is essentially an exercise in powerlessness.

The marginalized on a grand march to the doors of the wealthy elite and powerful; we plead with them to understand that in the end we were winning all along. We, the meek, will inherit the earth.

It brings me great pain to see the posturing and positioning begin for General Conference. Every four years we allow the mantras of the corporate world, the slogans of the campaign trail, and the -isms of the world to enter our hearts and minds. Our doors are closed to the powerless as the powerful make decisions that we will fail to internalize and which in turn will fail to materialize the change that we all want to see.

In the corner of my heart that beats slowest; I'm still convinced that the people who are affecting real change in our denomination are people whose names we will never know. They are not politicians; they are servants.

They smile broadly and pray as they bake a casserole for someone getting out of the hospital. They break the crack of dawn to shovel snow in front of the church. They clean the church without pay and without thanks. They feed the kiddos on Tuesday afternoon. They walk 12 miles to Bible classes. They invited strangers into their apartments for a worship service. They sing Halleluiah and they mean it. They understand that the bills can be paid later, but the people need rice right now.

They are God's littlest. And they are blessed.

My new obsession

2012-01-30T04:31:00.000-08:00

I first tried this product when I was vacationing in Warsaw with friends. We cooked borscht and fried up some vegetarian fried chicken substitute. When they pulled these hard little bricks of protein out of the bag I was absolutely disgusted. I couldn't imagine eating something so bizarre. It didn't help that we were all falling over each other to see the directions which essentially read - just add water. We coated them in egg and flour (very flexetarian of us) and fried them up. I honestly would have never guessed they were not chicken. They were light and tender, and flavorful. Just the right blend of spices and texture of meat.

Last week my flatmate told me that you could purchase the same product here. For around a dollar a bag you can buy this faux-meat product. It is used routinely in the states and goes by the acronym TVP. We never eat it in place of meat, but rather we use it as a meat extender. It extends the meat we use. Usually we use it in prisons and school systems (thank you Wikipedia for that delightful life affirmation) in order to cut costs. Just stir in some ground up flakes into real meat and they will absorb the flavor and mimic the texture of the meat being prepared. Think back to the last school taco you ate ... yep.

So, now that it's -20 outside, everyone is basically a shut in. We've already eaten everything edible - so we're down to just eating soy based protein. I'm very committed to figuring out how to make this stuff taste awesome. First you boil it.

Doesn't that look disgusting? But, honestly, I'm disgusted by raw meat, too. I guess this isn't any more disgusting.

Here it is after being pan seared and served with some mustard. It's not nearly as good as it was fried ... but it didn't taste bad. Today I made tacos with it and they were really enjoyable.

And since you made it the whole way through two disgusting pictures to get to the final product - I figured I should throw in another great picture. Here is Mefodyi begging for a bath.

A poem in the fashion of Wendell Berry

2012-01-21T14:28:00.001-08:00

Your big-box stores will be empty someday; as empty as our main-street store- fronts and our bellies at the end of the month. All you build will decay, it will be an eyesore some day. You'll die in your SUV. It protects you from the winos and beggars, but it doesn't protect you from yourself. Your McMansion will crumble and sway in the wind and "those people" will move in next door; and you'll find new places to build new monstrosities. You'll convince yourself that life is better with a five hour commute.

And you will declare all of this good. Good, like your grades and then your salary. And then your wife and your kids and your minivan. Good. Good like the prisons full of the bad guys, and good like the children of the lazy going to bed hungry after eating their just desserts. Let them eat cake...d on food particles that your dishwasher can't seem to get clean but your upgrade will fix. Lock your doors; check them twice .... For they may steal for their children - from the naughty to the nice.

We decry the Nazis and Soviets because they are past, but our own systems are better and certainly should last - and we ignore our trains running through the night as the bodies pile up. Out of mind, out of sight. We all agree that we would have stood up for the just, while we steal from those with just enough; one miserly tip at a time.

But you will be happier then. In the piles of rubble where once your house stood, you will find a home. You will know the names of your children's friends. You will read a book and go for a walk to escape the chaos and you will find yourself. Laughter will be your best medicine and God your only refuge. You will understand why all the poor people didn't need lithium to survive. You will be free at last, free at last. Free from yourself. Free from the things you owned that owned you, too. Free at last.

Intentionally Offensive

2012-01-21T05:20:00.000-08:00

I was preparing prayer stations for a worship service the other night. It was an impromptu worship service and everything came together very nicely.

As I was preparing one of the stations, I had the idea of using an untied shoe as a prop to help everyone visualize the point.

Now, Ukrainians have strict rules about shoes. In many Asian countries you are forever removing and replacing your shoes. Even in some stores and restaurants it is impolite to keep your shoes on. In Ukraine it's not such a big deal - we just always take our shoes off in people's apartments and homes. It's a wet and snowy climate and dirty even in the summer in the city. No one touches the ground, sits down on the ground, or places items on the ground. Shoe's are always left in the hallway.

I went back and forth about placing a dirty, untied shoe as part of a prayer station. Eventually I decided to do it.

In college we would have an annual service in which the President of the College would wash some of the students' feet. It was always titled something like "servant leadership chapel". It was a nice thought. Of course we did it because Jesus had done it - but Jesus did it because it was the lowest and most humiliating of all the task a servant could perform. If our president had cared deeply about modeling servant leadership he should have spent a weekend cleaning all of the toilets on campus or pulling hair out of the shower drains. Coming into the dorm bathroom and finding the president of the college plunging the toilet would have left far more of an impression than watching him take off his exspensive watch before dipping someone's feet in water and drying them off.

This is part f being a missionary. We don't do things because that is how they were done for us or because the Bible portrayed a scene - we try to do things to make a point that fits the culture we are working in. I feel like I often take that to mean that I am working hard not to offend anyone. But sometimes we have to be offensive.

Jesus was sometimes terribly offensive. He would draw in huge crowds to hear him speak and just as soon as the church growth gurus shine the spotlight on him as a shining example of how to really grow a church he opens his mouth and tells his predominately Jewish crowd to eat his flesh and drink his blood. These people who would never dare commit the sin of drinking blood are challenged to even drink human blood.

That's intentionally offensive. Jesus breaks the social norms and steps over boundaries all the time in the way he relates to women, people of different ethnic backgrounds, and those known to be guilty of sexual sins found repulsive by the culture.

Sometimes we play it too safe. We work hard to find the medium that will upset the fewest people. We vote democratically instead of prophetically.

The students who attended worship were shocked and disgusted by the untied shoe - but they got the point, discussed it openly after the service, and found a stronger connection to the idea of humility and grace.

The Gospel we believe in is challenging and difficult. It calls us to come and die, to give up everything we own, and to love those that society informs us we shouldn't love. Anything less is simply not the Gospel.

As Landa Cope once said, " If I offended you today ... Good! if I didn't... Come back tomorrow and I'll try again!"

2012-01-17T03:42:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I got an email that said that my twitter account had been hacked. My only thoughts was, "I have a twitter account?"

I have not forgotten about blogging.

Really, I swear. I have not forgotten about blogging.

I have some really great ideas - but my mind just won't cooperate long enough to write a thorough post. I have been in Ukraine for almost three weeks and still my brain has not fully re cooperated. My first trip to Russia lasted for exactly three weeks and felt like the longest dream imaginable. We did every under the sun in the city of Konakovo. We toured museums and factories. We learned the Cyrillic alphabet and a handful of words (and I remember saying, "I speak Russian" and feeling only slightly more guilty than I do when I make the same statement today.)

These last three weeks have been short and sweet. I have reconnected with old friends, rested, painted, and otherwise tried to stay out of the way.

I'm trying to spend the month of January focusing on getting readjusted and working on my Ukrainian language skills. I'm trying not to get sucked into the work of ministry responsibility just yet. I'm trying to focus on myself for a bit and to realize how important it is for me and everyone else that I take the time I need to work on learning Ukrainian better.

I would also like to take some time to blog about things going through my mind - but right now I just don't feel like I have the time for that. But, I am almost certain that at some point soon I will have the necessary motivation, inspiration, and determination.

2011 Annual Third Person Christmas Letter

2011-12-20T19:42:00.000-08:00

Michael Airgood wonders if this tradition has worn-out its welcome. But, in the absence of proof, Michael will go ahead anyway.

2011 was a big year for Michael. It was legendary, really.

Michael spent the winter finishing out his year of service as an Individual Volunteer in L'viv, Ukraine. His final months as a volunteer where very full and fulfilling. He worked to help establish a preaching point in Stree, Ukraine that will hopefully become a new congregation soon. The English club he helped teach produced students with greater speaking skills. He was sad to return home, but received good news from the Bishop who promised to ask the United Methodist mission board to hire a new missionary in Ukraine.

Sadly, Michael wasn't able to make it home in time for his close friend Jonathan's funeral. Jon died after a long struggle with cancer, and even a continent apart Michael and Jonathan grew even closer during Jon's final months. Jonathan Pound was an inspiration to all who knew him, and the causes he cared about most continue to blaze in the hearts of all who knew Jon.

Michael worked for his parents in Kane for a few short weeks, but quickly realized that living and working in Kane would not be a long-term solution. He completed licensing school in the North Georgia Annual conference in the spring and became licensed to be a local pastor in the United Methodist church.

In June it appeared that the Mission board would not be able to create a new position. At annual conference Michael agreed to serve a small United Methodist church in Western Pennsylvania. The following week he had his take-in at Robinson Evangelical UMC. By the time he met with the committee, GBGM had unexpectedly approved a new missionary position in Ukraine, and Michael was a strong applicant.

The church in Robinson didn't know how long Michael could be their pastor - and neither did Michael! But, the church was gracious and kind to their new, young pastor and things went exceedingly well. Michael stopped blogging during this time because the town was very small, and no personal story could be shared without offending someone in the town. Even with this limitation, Michael loved every minute he served that small congregation. He participated in the baptism a young woman and her toddler son - a highlight of a lifetime!

That was sadly Michael's final Sunday with the Robinson congregation. Three months into his appointment in Robinson; Michael Airgood was hired by the United Methodist General Board of Global Ministries as a standard support missionary working as a church planter and youth ministry developer in Ukraine. This is his dream job, and the answer to his lifelong calling. Michael is ecstatic about the opportunity. He immediately left to begin training before being commissioned.

Michael was arrested five days before the commissioning service. He was one of the 700 protesters arrested on the Brooklyn bridge protesting corporate greed, corporate influence in politics, and extreme wealth inequality. He spent six hours in a holding cell - and he could imagine his good friend Jonathan sitting in the cell with him. At Michael's court date he accepted an ACD - as long as he is not arrested in New York State in the next 6 months, the case will be dismissed and the record will be sealed. Michael is proud of his generation for taking a stand against the systemic issues that allow extreme poverty in America, but is thankful that the long-term repercussions will be mild!

Michael finished out the year preparing for his return to Ukraine by itinerating in over 30 churches across the US and raising support for GBGM. He leaves for his first three year term in Ukraine in a week!

He is grateful for a wonderful year full of adventure and surprise. He certainly didn't expect to get arrested, be hired for his dream job, or have the joy of sharing in the sacrament of baptism: at Christmastime we celebrate all the surprises God has in store for us.

Here's to 2012 being half as full of adventure, joy, and growth!

A Poem by Wendell Berry

2011-11-25T18:09:00.001-08:00

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

“Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front” from The Country of Marriage, copyright © 1973 by Wendell Berry

On Communion

2011-11-25T06:35:00.000-08:00

On my final Sunday at Robinson Evangelical United Methodist church I was permitted to consecrate the elements and serve communion to the congregation. It was an honor and a joy. It is so good to belong to a church with an open table. While I have had the joy of worshipping and working with a variety of Christian traditions, I always am thankful to end the day belonging to a tradition that readily shares the good news that God's grace is available to all through the symbolic act of allowing all to come and eat. While I am certain that every church has their doctrinal reasons and a proper theology for limiting who may recline at the table with Jesus; I rejoice in the United Methodist churches choice to welcome all.

On that Sunday, a visitor and her children sat near the back. As they came forward for communion, she was in tears. Her children had never experienced communion. They didn't know the ritual or tradition. They had never seen it before. We offered the bread to the small child and gladly proclaimed, "Jesus loves you!". I had been licensed and appointed for one Sunday only. As I left the tiny town with the hearty Methodist church, I had to turn in my certificate granting me permission to serve communion.

It hurt more than I thought it would. I knew that I would serve communion again soon, but I didn't know when or where,

With little feeling left in my thumbs from the pressure of the tightly secured handcuffs, I sat in a holding cell with more than a hundred others who had been arrested for protesting the extreme wealth inequality and level of corporate influence in government policies. We had occupied the Brooklyn Bridge to give voice to our movement and the millions of people who go to bed hungry every night in America. 700 of us had been arrested for our actions.

The boy sitting next to me was visibly terrified. He was slight and young. Like most of us, he had never been arrested before. As the hours passed, the police officers brought us food. The word "prison" is used as an adjective to describe food for a reason. The peanut butter sandwiches were meager at best. The milk was warm. The crust was so hard I wasn't even sure it was bread. I ate my sandwich in peace as I talked with Steven. He was from Florida and came up to New York city for the protests. He had thought that he could make a difference.

I asked him when he had eaten last, and he couldn't remember. Without thinking I opened the bag containing his sandwich and proceeded to pull the crusts off. I handed him the edible part of the sandwich and encouraged him to eat something. I pried open the milk carton and placed it in his hand. In my head I said a small prayer. I thanked God for opportunity to experience what so many Americans know as daily life. I thanked God for the meager provisions, and the way at they would be transformed through the act of thanksgiving and the great miracle of the living banquet. I took a deep breath and explained to Steven that I was a missionary; and that if he needed to talk about anything I was here. As he ate the bread and drank the milk one long tear fell from his face and we began a conversation about life and hope.

In the largest Methodist Church I have ever attended, I was one of many serving communion this Sunday. The pastor had taught me months before that when serving communion to a child, you always crouch down to their level. She makes certain that everyone serving is able and willing to look every child in the eye as they come up to receive communion. It's a simple thing, but one that I had never thought about before, but it makes all the difference. So many children passed through the line that my knees ached with exhaustion for lowering myself to their height.

I hope that communion doesn't lose its mystery and joy for me any time soon. We spent an entire class session during college trying to "figure out" communion. Trying to quantify in which way God works through the elements. In hindsight, this expenditure is laughable. Even if we could understand how God works through this holy mystery, I would ctainly hope that it would take more than a 45 minute class to figure it out!

As I reflect on communion, I am overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the miracle and the grace that it embodies. It is good to welcome all to this table, in every setting, all in God's grace.

Stand Up.

2011-11-08T08:53:00.000-08:00

I've always felt so powerless concerning the issues of systemic poverty.

I felt that I wasn't doing anything to create the issue of poverty, but I also felt that I wasn't doing anything to fix the issue of poverty. I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what I could do.

On Brooklyn Bridge, with 700 other people who felt the same way, I had the chance to take a stand against an unjust system. While there are many who dismiss our actions, who laugh off the whole movement, or who twist the truth to highlight a few radicalized members; this has the potential to be a major turning point in our democracy. For the first time my generation is beginning to voice a social consciousness.

For many of us, it took leaving the safety of our parents socio-economic status to see and feel the need. Older adults are now 47 times wealthier than their younger counterparts. For decades they were ten times wealthier. Our generation might be the first to have a lower standard of living than that of our parents since the great depression.

Our decisions matter. The things we say and do have a tremendous effect on those around us. Here are a few simple ways that we can fight the systemic issues that lead to tremendous wealth inequality and speak out for those without a voice.

Live on less. Spend far less money than you do right now. When you get your paycheck put half of it in a savings account (through a credit union, local bank, or other option that feels comfortable to you and benefits your community) and don't touch it. You can live comfortably on half as much as you live on now. At the end of the month, after you have proven to yourself that you can live on less, use a large chunk of that money to pay off debt.

Debt is the enemy. Our national, personal, student, and credit card debt is what keeps us from living freely and doing the things that we want to do. Live on war-time rations and accept the hospitality of strangers until you are free from debt. Drive your vehicles to extinction to avoid new debt on a new car. You could live your entire life without ever making a single vehicle payment.

Shop wisely. Buy locally anything that you can. Encourage local small businesses even if it means spending a few extra dollars (after you are debt free, of course) on a few things. The less processed something is, the more likely it is to benefit the local economy with a fair wage job. Foodstuffs that are made overseas are loaded with enough chemicals to preserve them for shipping and shelf life. Our bodies survive better with fewer of these chemicals.

Tithe+. When we give generously of all that God has provided we make a radical statement. We prove that our allegiance is with the almighty Father and not the almighty dollar. When we give our churches are given the resources to grow and flourish and provide the social programs that address the needs of the people. I've read the rest of the book, and God wins - not the corporations or the empires that allow them to rob from the poor- God wins. When we give of all we have, we Act as though we know the ending of the story. It is a powerful message that our hyper-consumerist culture needs to hear. The Bible addresses the issues of systemic injustice some 2000 times. Try to read more than a page of the Bible without stumbling on something that addresses how God feels about the issue.

Speak out. People will think you are crazy or uninformed if you speak out against the wealth inequality. We are taught that our current system is infallible. Words that describe other economic realities are used as jeers and taunts. Speak out anyway. It is inexcusable for people to go to sleep hungry while others slumber with billions in the bank. We must demand that either they in invest that money to create fair wage jobs for our citizens or they expect that we will arrive with pitchforks to take it ourselves. We are not opposed to money, or even to wealth. We are opposed to those who have cheated, stolen, and tricked their way to the top and then refuse to allow others to climb the ladder fairly.

Pray much. Pray for God to intervene on behalf of the poor; and expect that God may ask you to do the same.

We are one community. Although we are divided along many lines, if one of us goes to bed hungry - we all suffer. When we diminish one child's hunger by claiming that his parents are lazy we diminish our claim to be children of God.

As I head back up to New York City to appear before a court, I have little fear in my heart. The worst punishment they could give me is nothing compared to the poverty that millions of Americans face every day. If some punishment is levied against me for marching and speaking out on their behalf, I will gladly accept it. I believe that the eternal punishment for all those who ignore the cry of the needy will be far greater.

"There is a higher justice.".

So, I'm heading back to Ukraine

2011-09-26T14:17:00.001-07:00

I'm currently in Stonypoint, NY at missionary training.

If you haven't heard, I've been hired by the General Board of Global Ministries as a standard support missionary to L'viv, Ukraine. While no exact date has been set yet, I will be returning to Ukraine in early 2012.

I'm going to spend the next few months raising support. I get to say that I'm raising "support" instead of saying that I'm raising "money" because in the General Board of Global Ministries system all of the missionaries raise money for all of the current and future missionaries.

So, I don't have a set amount of money that I need to raise before I can fly overseas. I could raise $0 between now and my departure date and that wouldn't delay my departure or hurt my work in any way. We raise money so that others can go. While many of my friends serving in other denominations spend months or even years raising financial support before they gather enough to cover their expenses; because we raise funds for the community, I will be able to go after only a very brief time of raising money.

I get to spend the next few months traveling from conference to conference and from church to church teaching and preaching about mission. Mission is the thread that connects your local congregation to God's vision for the world. It's a topic that we don't address nearly enough in our churches, and a theme that I pray will bring renewed vitality to our congregations.

Along the way, I hope to find some covenant churches - churches that wish to have an ongoing mission relationship with me and with the work that will happen in Ukraine.

This is my biography and my advance number is 3021393.

If you're in a spot to do so, you can make a donation - or you can consider forming a personal covenant relationship with me. If you're not quite at that spot - you could help connect me to your church. I'm looking for churches, UMW & UMM units, Sunday Schools, Youth Groups, Bible Study groups, or any other group looking for a speaker. There are many United Methodist congregations who haven't had a missionary come and speak to their church in years if not decades. We are a global church, and this is an opportunity to celebrate that.

Learn about what the United Methodist Church is doing in Ukraine and what God has in store for the churches there in the future. Consider beginning the conversation in your church about supporting a missionary as a long term investment in the Kingdom. But more than that, help your congregation reconnect with God's mission and plan for the world and for their church.

Thank you, Michael Airgood

All who are weary

2011-07-04T08:37:00.000-07:00

"But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,

'We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.' For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, 'He has a demon'; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, 'Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!' Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds."

At that time Jesus said, "I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." - Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

I carried a heavy back pack all through school. Even in Elementary school I filled my backpack with papers and pens and kitchen sinks. My high school, I traveled to school with a backpack that could have traveled across europe. Filled with 7 textbooks and everything else I might need for the day, it weighed more than most of my classmates.

A few decades ago, it was rare for a person under the age of forty to complain of a sore back. In the 80s, doctors began hearing more and more complaints of chronic back pain coming from children. It was a new phenomena. Young adults had perfectly healthy backs, but their children or younger brothers and sisters were complaining of chronic back pain.

An entire generation of children grew up wearing backpacks. At first they were cute and fun - with favorite cartoon characters and bright colors. But, by middle school, children are carrying several pounds pounds more than they should be.

In a novel move for the heavy burdened, the Florida legislature just passed a law last month which will remove textbooks from their schools. Only e-books will be purchased for students. Instead of a backpack weighing almost as much as the students - everyone will be assigned an e-reader weighing less than two pounds.

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It's a heavy burden to be a pastor. It's a heavy burden to write the first sermon that your congregation will hear!

Growing up, my home church had the perfect pastor. He led our congregation for 13 years. The church grew. New ministries started. He coached our High School basketball team and led us to state competitions. It was really an idyllic environment to grow up in. I thought that everyone went to church and churches were always full.

The pastor that followed him was an immediate flop. The grumblings began right away. The three pastors that followed him all received the same treatment. The grumblings got louder. He doesn't visit enough. This one doesn't have enough hair. This one doesn't tell enough jokes. This one tells too many jokes.

But, in the background there had always been grumblings - even under our perfect pastor. Miss Nellie May din't like the way he led communion. Great Aunt Josephine didn't much care for the drum set sitting in front of the pulpit. Bob Johnson was upset that the pastor didn't celebrate all the Holy days that our church had once celebrated.

Finally, more than a decade after my childhood pastor made his exit - and after three pastors had been exhausted by the grumblings - I overheard a conversation that stopped me in my tracks.

A woman was sitting near the back of the congregation and she was grumbling about something the pastor had done. An older woman in the congregation turned around and said, "It wouldn't matter if Jesus Christ were standing up there preaching, it wouldn't be good enough for you."

She might have been talking about today's scripture. We find Jesus encountering the grumblings - and He faces them head on.

The people are upset that Jesus is eating and drinking. The same people who had been offended that John the Baptist neither ate nor drank - now they are offended that Jesus is doing both. They feel that Jesus should spend more time with the society people and MUCH less time with drunkards, sinners, tax collectors, and prostitutes.

there are two cures for the grumbles.

The first is prayer. Jesus immediately goes to prayer for these people. Prayer is powerful. Please pray for me every day. Please always be in prayer for your pastor. Pray for this congregation; that we can accomplish the will of the Father.

The second cure for the grumbles is Jesus.

Jesus calls out to these people and says, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

As your new pastor, I would like to go ahead and apologize and ask for your forgiveness. This is a new role for me. I'll be doing things I've never done before. I will make mistakes. I will mess up. I can almost guarantee that I will give you reason to do some grumbling - and I pray that we can go to prayer together and that we can go to Jesus together.

Whew! It feels great to let go of the burden of trying to be the perfect pastor. It feels great to give up the burden of preaching the perfect first sermon! It feels great to let go of my yoke and take Jesus' yoke.

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The yoke is the device used to carry heavy things. We most often see it in pictures of third world countries carried by a woman gathering water for her children, or on the shoulders of farm animals.

In the Jewish faith, you would pick a Rabbi - or have one chosen for you - and you would take on their "yoke." You would learn everything they believed about everything and your job would be to accept all of it and to carry it.

Over the centuries, these yokes became more and more oppressive. On top of all the books in the Old Testament, the Rabbi's would have interpretations of every passage. They would have interpretations of the interpretations of other Rabbis. The list of rules became unbearable.

As a diciple, your job would be to pick up the yoke. [at this point I will pick up a board with a bucket on either end] Of course we believe the ten commandments, and the Old and New Testament. And we know not to wear a hat inside the church building. Unless your a woman, in which case maybe you should wear a hat. And of course we believe in Robert's Rule of Procedure. And soon enough, this yoke becomes uneven and just too much to bear. And we need to let it go.

This is where the world and the Jewish faith were when Jesus came on the scene. Jesus came and spoke words that were very different than those the other teachers spoke. He didn't bring more rules, or even different rules. He brought grace.

Jesus promise that his yoke is easy. Jesus is a transformative force in history. There's BC and AD - everything in the world hinges on the birth of that baby in Bethlehem and on his willingness to die on the cross so that we don't have to carry the burdens of this world any longer.

Jesus took the weight of our yoke on his own shoulders. He took the heavy bookbag off our backs and put a small Bible in our hands. Jesus took the cross, so that we wouldn't have to.

Rodney is an 18 year old with Crohnes disease. He missed 21 days of school in his final semester because of the debilitating effects of his disease. In his senior year he managed to bring his cumulative GPA up from near failing to a 3.5! His only poor subject was math. He chose a simple math class, but math has a way of building on itself and even missing one day could destroy your comprehension of an entire unit. Missing 21 days makes most of the problems just scribbles on a page.

He was right on the pass/fail line going into his final. He studied and got extra help. With trembling hands he got back his results. He had failed the course. If he had correctly answered just two more questions, he would have passed the class. His parents called the teacher to ask for a little leaway.

The teacher failed him. He didn't get to walk with his classmates. He'll get his diploma after he does remedial work.

No amount of pleading could get her to changer her mind. He had failed the class by two questions and that was that.

That's a heavy burden. Perhaps some of us are carrying heavy burdens this day.

Dear friends, Jesus our savior calls out to us - to take away our yokes and replace them with his own - the light and gentle yoke of a loving saviour. Our altar will be open during the closing hymn if you are ready to let go of your heavy burdens and find rest.

Dear ones, this world is full of people who are weary and carrying heavy burdens. As the church we don't have anything to add to their yoke. We have Jesus Christ and Him crucified to offer to this hurting world. We have a light and easy yoke to share with them.

Go forth this day and offer the light and easy yoke of Jesus Christ as Savior and living God.

Avery Manchester - profile
203 5959092 - (c)203 9123392

...

Sermon for Saturday Night Alive service.

2011-05-19T10:34:00.001-07:00

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.

And you know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves.

Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.

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Biltmore estates is the largest privately owned residence. It has 250 rooms and is six stories tall. Much like our Olmstead Manor, there is a bowling alley inside the house. At Biltmore there are also multiple swimming pools, hundreds of acres of pristinely landscaped gardens, and more bathrooms than anyone could ever need. A tour of the house can take several hours, and very few people have ever been in every room. I doubt that any of the owners of the house have ever been in every room.

We hear the promise of a mansion in heaven -a Father’s house with many dwelling places- and our minds probably wander to the Rockefellers or the Roosevelts. I’ve found myself lost in many single-family dwellings while visiting friends. You know those McMansions largely characterized by a lack of character; with more bathrooms than people it seems they always manage to fill up with clutter faster than friends or good memories.

The image of a heavenly mansion awaiting our arrival conjures up notions of wealth and extravagance – but this was not the desired effect of Jesus when he spoke these words or of the writer of this Gospel.

Jesus promises: “I am going to prepare a place for you.”

This is wedding talk. These words held the same meaning for the Jewish people as an engagement ring or a young man getting down on one knee would for us. This would be like saying, “I’ve reserved the church and the banquet hall for a certain Saturday in July.” In Jewish culture, when a couple became engaged the man returned to his father’s house and began constructing an attached dwelling place for his new family to live.

We as the church are the bride of Christ. This is the image used throughout the Bible to describe our corporate relationship with God. As individuals we are friends, brothers, servants, sheep, and any number of analogies to describe our personal relationship with Jesus Christ. As a body - as the Church - it seems that we keep coming back to the same analogy.

The Church is the bride of Christ.

Jesus performs his first miracle at a wedding banquet. Throughout his three years of ministry he references again and again images of a wedding, the wedding party, and married life.

The whole world watched as Kate Middleton became Princess William. We laughed at silly hats, stodgy English clergy, and the trees in the cathedral. The royal family spent millions of dollars on a wedding event for the world to watch. But at the core of all the pomp and circumstance stand two young adults with a tremendous amount of pressure to make things work. After the wedding, those two ordinary people have to go home and talk about the weather for the next fifty years.

Marriage continues beyond the honeymoon. Even as a single person, I can say that good marriages take work. As the bride of Christ, we're no trophy wife. We've got our work cut out for us. As the Bride of Christ it is our responsibility to go into the world and to do all the good we can.

Recently a German Pastor in the United Methodist Church made international headlines. After winning $180,000 on the German version of "Who wants to be a millionair" he gave away $160,000 of it to a family in need.

Rev. Alfred Mignon said, "It is not common for some people to share their belongings, but for Christians, this is a matter of course.”

As Christians we must be known for our generosity.

For many political couples, the wife is the public face. while the husband is the one running for office, her face is the one that charms the hearts of voters. While I won't get into politics - Where would the husbands of Eleanor Roosevelt, Jackie Kennedy, or Laura Bush be without their graceful wives as their public image? Jesus makes a bizarre promise - "You'll do even greater things." - But in the analogy of the church as the bride of Christ, this makes sense. As we always say, behind every great man, there's a great wife. We have our work cut out for ourselves. If we are the public face of God - we've got to watch what we're doing.

When Chelsea Clinton got married, the wedding was performed by a Jewish Rabbi and a United Methodist pastor. Jon Stewart, a comedian, joked that Methodists were the "University of Phoenix of religions." Just check the box and send a check and you can be a member.

What are we as Methodists known for? What do people say about us? What is our repuations? Is our reputation fitting of the Bride of Christ? In Arsenic and Old Lace, there's this great line where the older ladies see a homeless man. The one says to the other, "He's really quite handsome for a Methodist." As the United Methodist church has aged we have become more middle-class, more mainline, and more acceptable. We have lost our edge, our connection to the poor, and our distinct heritage as Methodists.

"Out of the Foundery in London, Wesley organized a number of ministries to serve the poor. He charged the Methodists not to wait for the poor to come to them, rather they were to seek out the poor. Wesley longed for a church that exhibited "charity in all forms". He led his coworkers to beg for funds for the poor, provide soup kitchens, collect clothing and blankets, gather coal for heating, set up medical clinics, form literacy classes, open lending libraries, visit prisoners and their families, tutor children, organize Sunday schools, set up employment services, provide loan funds and establish homes for orphans, unwed mothers and the aged."

As the Bride of Christ - and as members of the Methodist movement - we are charged to go out and to change the world. Knowing that we can do insurmountable good, and knowing that God will give us all good things if only we ask - I charge the question: What should we be asking for? What ministries will we ask God to provide for? How can we as Christians serve the working poor, the disabled, and the disenfranchised.

In our church calendar, two distinct events are celebrated this weekend. We celebrate "Heritage Sunday" and "Save a Life Sunday." For Heritage Sunday we look to the past and celebrate the good that our church has accomplished, for Save a Life Sunday we look to the future and see the good that our church can still accomplish. We claim our heritage and expand upon it.

Dear friends, it's time for us to reclaim our heritage. It is time for us to stand up and to take our rightful place as part of the bride of Christ. It's time for us to engage in serious ministry with the poor in our community and around the world. Tonight we will take up a special offering for Imagine No Malaria, perhaps this week you will also offer up some time to God to think and pray about ways for you and our congregation to be in ministry to, with, and for the poor in our community.

2011-05-07T18:43:00.000-07:00

I'm not opposed to using business and marketing language when discussing the church. At licensing school we had to learn the mantra that "You have to run the church like a business. But, the church is not a business."

In contemporary circles, many discussions focus on growing our churches. Some people don't believe this is important. I tend not to have too much time for them. The rest of us seem to fall into two groups. One group insists that we just have to pray more. I hope they do.

The other group tends toward changing methods and practices which are ineffective.

Ineffective churches bother me for one reason. It takes just as much time, energy, and resources to run an ineffective church as it does to run an effective one. Usually more. My mentor has often said that if he was in such a position, he would close down half the churches in America: and not necessarily the smallest half!

A common theme has been to focus on improving the product. Church's that focus on this goal tend to work hard to improve their Sunday morning worship services. Something about this paradigm has bothered me for years.

Those who distrust business jargon would contest that Jesus is the product, but - that's not quite right. Jesus isn't a commodity. We don't buy or sell him. We can't focus on making Jesus better.

But, we have been working hard to produce the wrong product. The product that we produce is disciples. As churches we create disciples. While we have worship services, youth ministries, education programs, etc.: these are not the product we create.

The Hershey's corporation has probably spent millions of dollars on the complicated machinery it takes to produce Hershey's kisses. But, other than an occasional tour or 30-minute special, we never see the machinery. On a daily basis, we see the product and not the machinery required to produce the product. What if you had to tour the factory every time you wanted a delicious chocolate kiss?

You probably wouldn't be eating too many chocolate kisses. And yet, week after week, we attempt to expose pre-Christians to the machinery and not the product.

Perhaps it is time to turn that idea upside down. Maybe we need to hide the machinery and show off the product. Maybe we need to stop pushing worship attendance and begin pushing our disciples out into the world. And not to do "ministry." But, just to be out in the world.

What would it take to move our churches toward the goal of producing BETTER disciples. Not more of them, but qualitatively better Christians.

Would we need to scrap the Sunday worship service? Would we need to individualise Christian education? Would our structure need to change to allow for one-on-one discipling instead of weekly lecturing? Would burn-out be as common or as severe?

The mission statement of the United Methodist Church (with just a touch of business jargon) is "to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world." The commission was to make disciples. Church as we know it is almost entirely absent in the Bible.

Our focus must again move toward producing disciples. Not members, not worshippers, not attendees; but disciples. Unless our machinery is creating people willing to go anywhere and do anything in the pursuit of Jesus Christ and the transformation of the world - it is time to replace the machinery.

Looking around ... I'm going to vote that it's time to replace some machinery.

Maundy Thursday

2011-04-11T06:27:00.000-07:00

Jesus' disciples were all good and faithful Jewish men. Although they weren't the most highly educated, they came from faithful families. They had almost certainly celebrated a Seder meal every year of their lives. The word "Seder" actually means "order." As in the fact that there is a specific order to the meal. Just like we are known as Methodists, because of our specific methods of organizing.

The disciples entered into the upper room with the knowledge that they knew what was coming next. They knew the routine, the knew the order of the seder meal.

But that night in the Upper Room would be very different. From the very entrance, Jesus changed the formula. In place of the lowly servant to wash their feet, Jesus kneels before them. Jesus used the ritual and tradition that was so very familiar to them, but Jesus infused it with new meaning.

Tonight we will celebrate a traditional Jewish Seder meal, but because of our faith in Jesus as the Messiah; these symbols mean something different to us. The Jewish Seder meal celebrates the past and longs for the future - our meal tonight celebrates the past, the present, and the future.

Let's begin with the past.

Read the account of the passover.

The Jewish people were slaves in Egypt. We remember the stories of Moses' birth. As the Jewish population increased, they began to outnumber the Egyptians, so Pharoah called for all newborn babies to be killed.

Slavery is the backdrop for our meal tonight. Take the horseradish and eat it. It is bitter. This reminds us of the harsh bitterness of slavery endured by the Jews in Egypt. As Christians, we live in the present, and this bitter herb must also remind us that many people still live with the bitterness of slavery. Around the world millions of people are enslaved. Women and children are subjected to unimaginable horror as sex-slaves, women and children are used as cheap labor in banana republics where they are paid pennies for a solid hour of work, and the lost and the hurting often find themselves enslaved to sin. We taste this bitter herb to remind us that slavery is still an all too real part of life for all too many people.

To wash that taste out of your mouth, you may eat some of the Haroset. It's the apple, cinnamon mix. We eat it because it symbolizes the mud used to create bricks. [As moses was fighting for the freedom of his people, God sent plagues. Pharoah punished the Jewish slaves by demanding that they increase the number of bricks they made each day - but he refused to give them any straw. God provided a miracle and the bricks set up.] This Haroset is used to sweeten the bitterness of slavery. Because of our faith in God, we know that we can survive anything - we know that God is with us. As Christians we work toward the future. We believe and fight for a future free from the yoke of slavery. We pray for wisdom and try to remember that our actions and purchases either encourage or stem the tide of unfair practices globally.

On the night of the final Plague, Moses instructed the faithful to take the blood of a lamb and to spread it around the doorframe of their house. Take your green and dip it in salt water. This represents the hyssop branch dipped in the Lamb's blood. When death came through, it would passover the homes with the blood of the lamb on their doorframes. That night death took the firstborn of every house in Egypt. Even Pharoah's youngest was killed. This is the reason for the celebration - death passed over the Jewish homes.

Go ahead and taste the lamb, and remember the sacrifice made for you.

You know, oddly enough, in many languages the word for Passover and Easter are the same word. Dear friends, death is coming - it is on its way - and God asks you to take the blood of the lamb and to put it on the doorframe of your heart. Jesus is our sacrificial lamb. His presence in our lives shows without a doubt that death is not welcome here.

This last year has been an especially difficult one for me. More than a year ago one of my closest friends had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. From the other side of the world I watched as my healthy, active 23 year old friend succumbed to the long slow debilitating effects of the cancer. As Christians, we celebrate the tension of living in this era. Death is not welcome here, but it is yet to be fully vanquished.

One day we will live in a world free of sadness and tears. "The last enemy to be defeated shall be death." This lamb is for us a symbol of the blood of the lamb that protected the Jewish people, the blood of our Lamb who protects us, and the promise of a better future - one in which the lion will lie down with the lamb.

The hard boiled egg represents for us the old covenant. The system of offering burnt offerings to appease God. This should remind us of the new covenant - that Jesus Christ died in our place as our sacrifice.

And we come to our final items. Bread and wine.

The Matzah bread is specific because there wasn't time to make yeast breads which would need time to rise. Although the people had been waiting on God, they weren't acting like it. They weren't acting as though they believed that God would free them from slavery. If they had trusted that God would set them free as God had promised, the people would have had bread already prepared.

Sometimes in our own lives, although we say that we trust God, we fail to plan and act accordingly. My great aunt Mabel was a very strict old-school-religion kind of Christian. Her financial adviser had advised several end-of-life care options. He felt that she should buy life insurance and a burial plot, but Aunt Mabel staunchly refused. One day she was going over her finances with my mother who pressed for a reason why she wouldn't make those logical investments. "Well, I plan on going up in the rapture." After she lived for a decade longer than any of her brothers and sisters - we all started getting a little readier for the rapture.

Nothing is funnier than watching children sing "If you're happy and you know it" while obviously not being happy about the fact. Few things are sadder than watching Christians sing about the joy of the Lord with no trace of joy on their faces. Eating the Matzah reminds us to live each day as though we actually believe the things we say we believe.

We drink the wine to remind us that this is a celebration. When Jesus held up the wine, he was reminding his disciples that even at the end of his life - life is a party. As we move closer to Good Friday and we remember the death of Jesus, it is important for us to remember that this Friday truly is good. This sacrifice saves us from sin, from Hell, from ourselves - this sacrifice saves and redeems the world. This bread and this cup are a symbol for us that truly Jesus Christ is our sacrifice. We share in his body and blood and we are saved by nothing less.

After the choir anthem, we will share in Holy Communion together. Like the disciples gathering for the Seder meal - this is something we have done at least dozens of times. We know the order, the method, the ritual; and that knowledge makes it even easier to miss the significance and the meaning of this sacred order. I urge you to remember in earnest the sacrifice of our Lord as we share in communion together.

Jesus the partier

2011-04-04T05:28:00.000-07:00

"On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”
“Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”
His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim.

Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.”

They did so, and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside and said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”

What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him." - John 2:1-11

Start sermon by bringing out a wine glass.

Wine has been around for thousands of years. In historical settings where water was unsafe to drink, most often people drank wine. Wine is an important part of dozens of cultures. You can't be Italian or French without a nice glass of wine in your hand. Wine doesn't have the same reputation as other alcohols. Vodka and other hard liquors are just used for getting drunk. Beer is often seen as a little low-brow. It's something to drink while sitting on a bench in a park. But wine is different. Wine is used for celebrating. Nothing is as clear a sign of refinement and celebration as uncorking a nice bottle of wine. Wine is a symbol of great wealth. The rich relish in ordering a bottle with a label that clearly shows refinement and taste. University students drink wine out of a box, their parents uncork a bottle with a dog riding a unicycle on the label.

Wine is a symbol of an elegant, delightful party.

[At this point I will bring out a second wine glass and clearly pour grape juice into it for my translator

A TOAST: May you share in the greatest party of your lives. May we find joy together and embrace it with our whole hearts. будьмо!

Today I want to talk about parties and my favorite partier.

It's my last sermon with you - so I can say anything that I want and get away with it. If you have theological questions, feel free to ask David tomorrow.

Jesus was a partier. At least that was the reputation he had. He went to parties thrown by anarchists and attended by prostitutes. When we think of Jesus, many of us think of a quiet reserved man, in a field silently tending sheep as David portrayed him two weeks ago. Someone who would fit in better in a library than a bar. But Jesus' enemies felt quiet differently about him. They lambasted him for his ways. They felt that his lifestyle choices were shameful.

And they weren't so far from the truth. Now we assume that because Jesus was without sin, that Jesus always drank in moderation. We would be wise to do likewise. But whether Jesus drank at all, he was still present and active at some wild parties. His friends were people that you probably wouldn't hang out with. But maybe you should.

...

Life in Christ isn't about following the rules or trying to earn rewards or entrance to heaven. Life in Christ is a party - and you're invited.

This was the third day of the wedding. People had been drunk for three straight days, and Jesus felt it necessary to turn water into wine.

A lot of us were taught the rules of religion when we were growing up. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. Don’t lie, don’t cheat. Throw salt over your left shoulder to knock the devil off. We were taught the rules.

Because it’s a lot easier to teach a toddler not to touch a hot stove, than it is to teach that same toddler how to use that stove to cook the most exquisite meals the world has ever tasted.

When I look at global Christianity, the thing that turns my stomach into knots- the truth that causes great anguish and pain- is that most Christians never move beyond the instruction of rules and regulations of the faith.

Sermon after sermon, book after book, angry grandmother after angry grandmother – they all point to the same thing: we are children and we are going to get burned by the stove.

We are not children anymore. It is time for our faith in Christ to move beyond the gentle instruction reserved for toddlers. We must move into a maturity of faith. We must no longer be afraid of the stove, and instead we must learn to cook delicious meals on it.

Because living in the fullness of Christ is a party. It’s a lavish affair that goes on and on and on. Jesus and his disciples show up while the party is in full swing. It has been going on for several days – and then they run out of wine. Not only does Jesus support the merits of having an occasional glass of wine for your health – he embraces the joy, delight, and merriment of a drunken party lasting well into next week.

Jesus tells the head servant to take a cup and fill it with water and take that cup of water to the man sitting at the head of the table. Now, if you or I were asked this request – we would go to the faucet. But, this was Cana 2000 years ago. They didn’t have faucets – they didn’t have running water. The water wasn’t safe to drink – so they didn’t keep “drinking water" around. They lived in the desert. This head servant dipped his cup into the only water supply in the house – the water that had been used in the ceremonial washing.

As guests arrived over the three day long party, the servants used the whole supply of water to wash the feet of the guests. The wedding party and the most important guests would have washed first – with clean water. Women, children, servants, slaves, and late-comers would have washed with the dirty water that was left over.
It was this dirty water, this used-up source, that was available when Jesus asked the servant to take some water to the head of the household.

Now, these were harsh times for servants and slaves. If the servant brought you a cup of filthy, muddy water – you didn’t laugh it off as a good prank; you had his head cut off for insubordination.

Although this man has never seen Jesus perform a miracle (remember, this was Jesus’ first public miracle), and has maybe never even heard him preach, he has had the privilege of interacting with Jesus. He and his fellow servants have washed the feet of Jesus and the disciples as they entered the party. What about that 20 minute interaction let the head-servant know that he could trust his job – his very life – to the words and actions of this wandering teacher and his twelve disciples? Maybe the servant knew Mary well and trusted her words intimately. We will never know for sure.

But we do know, he trusted Jesus enough to dip his chalice into dirty, used up water and walked to the front of the hall to deliver the most delicious wine ever created to the head of the party.

Jesus is asking the same of you. First, he’s asking you to trust him. You've known Jesus for longer than 20 minutes. Just as Mary says to the servant, I say to you this day, "Do whatever he tells you."

He’s asking you to take a real leap of faith and to really trust him. Jesus wants you to really trust him with not only your job and the respect that people show you, but He wants you to risk even your very life.

Second, he's asking you to dip into the dirty water of the world. Because if we want to see a miracle, we have to work with what we've got.

This world is dirty and filthy. People are mean and cruel. I could read you statistics about how many people are addicted to drugs, how many people get raped, how many children go to bed hungry at night, how many people are beat up in hate crimes because of the color of their skin or because of whom they love, or how many people are killed in violent crimes every year. I could read you these statistics, but I think that deep down you already know them. You know that we live in a fallen world.

So instead, I'll read you the hope and promise that Christ has given us. “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”

Jesus Christ is the best wine the world has ever tasted. Jesus wants us to stand up and have the courage to dip into the filthy, dirty world and to know that from that we will pull out the finest wine. When we are ready and willing to get our hands dirty and to engage with the world - at that point we will experience the fullness of Jesus Christ as Savior who can move the mountains.

Trust that the Holy Spirit will guide you. Don't just give a few coins to the old lady holding out a cup - ask her to share her story. Think about where you spend your free time and where people who don't know Jesus spend theirs.

There's this really beautiful miracle that Jesus wants to make happen, but he needs you to take the lead and dip into the dirty water and to risk your life to bring it to the world. I don't know what it is, but I think that you should "Do whatever he tells you."

After 13 beautiful months, today is my final day in L'viv. I refuse to mourn this fact. In Jesus Christ, life is a party. We have celebrated and partied together for 13 months, and as brothers and sisters we will continue to party together for all of eternity. Whether I come back in a few months or a few years or whether we don't get to see each other again until we are with Jesus; the party continues.

This day Jesus is asking us all to trust Him and do as he says. Leaving this place today is part of that trust. While it breaks my heart to say goodbye, I will gladly dip my chalice into this dirty water - because I have the hope and the promise that Jesus Christ saves the best for last. The best is yet to come, and we are part of making that happen.

May you always have the freedom to live in the joy of Christ. May you have the courage to celebrate and party in the face of danger and strife. Amen.

My final sermon at L'viv UMC.

2011-04-02T08:08:00.000-07:00

A parable:

I once knew a couple who were farmers, and we used to go often to visit their farm. At one point in my childhood, finances got tight and they had to close down the farm for a few years. They sold all of the livestock and didn't plant any new crops. The barns stood empty and the fields were bare. But, for these two farmers, their lives revolved around the farming community. Their calendar had been filled with farming, farming conferences, cattle auctions, and shows.

So, with or without the farm, they continued with their farming lifestyle. They attended farming conferences. They listened to lectures about the latest farming technologies. They discussed which seed varieties worked best in their region. They learned about which tractors and combines were most effective to plow and to harvest.

And then they went home. They didn't farm. They talked about how helpful the farming conference had been and they both agreed that it had made them better farmers.

They went to cattle auctions and watched as other people bid on cows. Then they went home. They looked out at the empty barn and shrugged their shoulders. They didn't plant and they didn't harvest for another year.

The next year they eagerly signed up again for the regional farming conference. They were so excited to learn how to be better farmers, and to be taught how to grow and harvest more effectively. They were really ready for this conference to make them even better farmers than the conference the year before.

----

After I became a Christian I wasted several years. I didn't share my faith with anyone for a long time because I was afraid. I assumed that I didn't have the right words, or that I couldn't answer their questions. I was afraid that people would reject me. I read books on the subject, and listened to sermons about it, but I never took that first step of sharing my faith.

I love the simplicity of the witness of the man in today's story. He sees that the Pharisees are stuck on some complex theological issue and he states simply that he doesn't know the answer. But he continues, "One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!"

It's this simple answer that the divided world is looking for. While professors and lawyers argue over great theological questions - the rest of us are left to give the simple answer. We can only share what we know. "I was blind but now I see!" I hated everything about myself and now I love myself. I was an angry drunk and now I love my family. I was a sinner and now I'm forgiven.

I want you to watch this video.

[I'm not sure if we'll watch the whole video in church ... maybe just a few minutes. I really wrestled with the idea of performing this, or making this interactive somehow. I'm not done wrestling yet!]

I want you to think about your own life. Could you explain what Jesus has done on one piece of paper? Could you then stand up on a stage and show that paper to everyone else? Could you say those two phrases to someone that you really love?

These last few weeks we've been preaching about sharing our faith. We hope that we have helped you become more confident and motivated to share your faith. As Christians, we believe that our collective testimony is powerful and world-changing. I want to share three stories with you all today that highlight this fact:

Almost 300 years ago the Methodist movement began. It grew out of frustration with the established church. It was a time in church history when the church was dead. The wealthy and the powerful went to church to be seen. The poor and the powerless were simply not welcome.

John and Charles Wesley came from an odd family life. Their father had been a priest, but he left his congregation to move to the city. His wife, Susanna, felt that it was important that her children have instruction - so she began teaching them on Sunday mornings. Well, soon enough, the other mothers found out about the Bible classes and asked if their children could also attend. And soon the mothers also began attending. And then the fathers began attending.

Susanna Wesley soon had a thriving congregation on her hands - and, unintentionally, she was their priest. So the Wesley children grew up with the knowledge that God worked in strange and wonderful ways - and that God worked through all kinds of people.

When the Wesley brothers were old enough they became priests as well, but the sensed that the church was dying - if not already dead! People with great wealth went to church on Sunday morning to be seen by others. The poor were no longer welcome in the church. The job of "priest" had become a profitable career choice. The Wesley brothers wanted to see their church come alive again. They became part of a home group - and during this time their hearts were strangely warmed. They began to see the problems that had been slowly eating away at the church.

They began preaching to all people. If the poor weren't welcomed into the church - then neither was Jesus and neither were the Wesley brothers. They would go and preach somewhere else. They preached the good news that Jesus Christ died for sinners and that all may be made right with God through Jesus - and they preached it everywhere. They preached in marketplaces and they stood on tombstones and preached it in cemeteries. Crowds gathered to hear this radical idea - and this idea is still radical today! - and the Wesley brothers formed these men and women into home groups.

75 years ago Elaine Neale was growing up in a poor immigrant family. Her father was a mean drunk and it wasn't uncommon for the children to have bruises. One of her neighbors attended the Methodist church in her little town, and came over one day to ask if she could bring Elaine and her sisters to Sunday School with her own children. Each Sunday she would walk with her sisters to the local United Methodist church.

They went to the United Methodist church because they were welcome there. People loved them there. To the people at that little United Methodist congregation; it didn't matter how poor those little girls were, it didn't matter how much of a drunk their daddy was, and it didn't matter that they didn't know anything about the Bible or how good people behaved. What mattered was that Jesus loved them, and so did the people of that little church.

I am standing here today because that woman had the courage to invite my grandmother to church and because that little church loved her and her sister's unconditionally.

In Mongolia I met several people with the name Nergyui. Now, in Mongolia people attribute great importance to names. I assumed that Nergyui must be a particularly beautiful and meaningful name. I asked one of the boys named Nergyui what his name meant and his eyes looked toward the floor. "My name means, 'no name'" he said.

In Mongolia, if a child dies, his or her name is no longer considered beautiful. So, if parents think that a child will die they choose not to waste a good name on them. I met many such people. Ter bish - not this. no one. nothing.

All of their lives, the world had told them that they were nothing - but in the church they found that they were so precious that God was willing to give Jesus to be nothing in their place. The United Methodist church in Mongolia is filled with such people. These people find the meaning and purpose that their lives had always been missing.

I share these examples to show the church in three very different locations and time periods working at its best. These were churches that looked beyond what the world saw and in turn they were able to transform the world.

In the past I have been afraid to share my faith because I felt like I was doing it simply for myself. I was trying to make myself feel better, or I was trying to be a better Christian because witnessing was what I was "supposed to do." When we share our faith with the world, we move in the direction of transformation.

If that neighbor lady hadn't invited my grandmother to church, I wouldn't be here today. For three generations we have worked for the cause of the gospel. We have shared our faith and we have fought for social change. I am very, very thankful that that woman worked up the courage to ask if she could bring my grandmother and her sisters to church. I owe a lot of my life and my ministry to her.

When we share our faith in big and small ways, we receive a blessing. But the fried that we share with also receives a blessing. Whether he or she accepts or rejects your words, the blessing is in part simply knowing that you care enough to share. If that friend accepts, his or her life will be blessed immeasurably by God. The world will be blessed by the new life that person has in God. The people they share with will be blessed.

When Jesus spat in the mud and placed it in the eyes of the blind man, he opened his eyes to a whole new world. The man had never seen anything before. He and his family had been shunned by the community because of his blindness - and now he could see. His life had been transformed by Jesus Christ and he was ready to tell the whole world.

You know, there are a lot of people who will tell you that it's wrong to share your faith. The pharisees were angry and upset that Jesus had performed this miracle. As though there was something sinful about opening someone's eyes to a whole new world. If people felt this way about Jesus, you can bet the farm that they'll feel the same way when you do it. People will be upset when you help to open people's hearts to God.

But, do you know who wasn't upset or angry? The blind man. He was thrilled to have his sight back. He was so overjoyed that he was ready to share his faith even with the powerful and important men who were clearly angry at this Jesus who "sinned" by healing on the Sabbath. No matter how you go about it, any person whose life is changed by Jesus Christ will be glad that you shared with them.

Go forth this day, armed with nothing but your simple story, and transform this world for Jesus Christ.

2011-03-14T13:49:00.000-07:00

I celebrated Christmas today. It was one of those random moments that I'm slightly notorious for. There remains a slight perception that in my family people either end up eccentric or crazy - and I have few qualms about embracing eccentricity.

Truth be told, the need to celebrate Christmas had something to do with losing Jonathan. There was some hint of grief and indwelling sadness, a hint that might remain for some time. I couldn't quite make the connection. It's like the lochness monster, I'm still convinced that it's there - I just couldn't find it.

I cooked a traditional Christmas dinner, invited a friend over, and watched some Christmas specials. It was perfect like the morning after the last Pancake and Pajama night. The one with Rebecca still in Georgia. A group had spent the night and studied for a math exam. I was more than ready, and managed to sleep at least 6 hours while everyone else crammed. I was the only one to pass the exam. In the morning, Rebecca made us all pancakes before she went into work. She made a Mickey mouse pancake for Jonathan. It was perfect like Christmas dinner in March.

It feels a little bit as though so many things are broken in my life. I banter around the phrase "in my broken Ukrainian" to describe all of my conversations; this as though at one point I had spoken Ukrainian quiet lovely and fluently and then one day a neighborhood kid hit a baseball through it and suddenly it was broken.

We need a better word:

Flailing?
Stuttered?
Slovenly?

Because it's not that things are broken. It's that things are flailing about in a slovenly fashion. I stutter over the remains of self confidence and stop-gap at memories.

I can't mention baseball without remembering the time that Jonathan was staying at my house and the tree branch fell on my neighbor's roof. It made a tremendous noise, and sounded like someone had broken down the door. By the time I sat up and reached under my bed for the baseball bat, Jonathan was already out on the porch in - with my baseball bat in hand, in nothing but his underwear. It was another of those eccentric moments that made my gossipy neighbors overjoyed.

It will take a while to deal with this grief. It will help to go to his graveside, to visit with his family, to talk with our friends about him. But, this too shall pass. I'll move past mandating holidays and word-association games. Eventually I'll get to the point were things are back to normal. I'll forgive easily and I'll love easily, again.

It might take a few more random holidays. Who's up for Halloween in two weeks? Really.

In memoriam...

2011-03-08T05:24:00.000-08:00

Jonathan and I became friends when he decided to write a love letter to my friend, Rachel. I had met him before and didn't like him. He seemed too cocky, to self-assured. We sat on an old pipe that crossed the river and had a strict discussion. A few days later I went to his room to confront him about an action that I found inappropriate. I thought he would blow me off - but soon he started showing up at my house to talk.

Jonathan and I would go on long drives together, he would offer to buy me a beverage every time we stopped at a gas station. I had never paid gas-station-prices for anything, and felt that I was being treated to a real luxury. Sometimes we would steal away to a secret spot to smoke a clove cigarette. This fact embarrasses me now beyond belief - but I haven't smoked in ages and it didn't embarrass Jon; so maybe it shouldn't. We wanted to be rebellious and as middle-class white males we really didn't have much else going in our favor in that department - so smoking would suffice.

With passion oozing out of every orifice, he would explain the latest injustice. Some days we felt like we could change the world - other days felt more hopeless than a quicksand swimming pool.

Now that this long battle is over; I begin to wonder, "What's next?" With whom will I crusade? How am I suppose to change the world without J.G. Pound at my side? Sometimes the weight is oppresive - that I might have to carry out our vision without him. Other days I laugh with joy and hope - Jonathan has led like a true visionary and there are hundreds who will take up the cross to go where Jon has been heading.

Who among our friends will leave behind their vision of a comfy desk job to staff an orphanage in India? Which fellow student will begin working with troubled teens to show them God's love? Who will plant churches? Who will challenge "good Christians" to think a little harder about the theological pills they're swallowing? Who will fight the administration when it tries to screw over students to gain more of the almighty dollar? Who will love people that others find detestable?

You. You who knew and loved our dear friend. You who have loved and prayed and fought to the very end. You will crusade with us. You will live out the vision that Jonathan has boldly proclaimed in the name of Christ.

Sick.

2011-03-02T04:26:00.000-08:00

I've been sick this last week. It was just a little virus with no major complications ... but it sure did knock me out for a while. I felt a little ill on Monday night law week, but tried to push through it. I managed to get everything done for English Club last Tuesday, but I had to go home sick in the afternoon - and I was in bed sick for the next five days! I managed to make it through the whole day on Sunday, but I have been taking it easy since then. I'm still at about 50% energy!

Sorry for not blogging at all these last few weeks.

Do not worry

2011-02-22T01:40:00.000-08:00

When my mother went to University, her parents bought her a calculator. She had to leave it plugged in overnight, and it could hold it's charge for only a class or two. It calculated so slowly, that she just did most of the math work in her head to save time. She took a computer course - on the only computer at the university - in which she cut holes out of a sheet of cardboard and then fed it into the monster-sized computer to see if it would run a program.

As a child I remember my whole family sitting around our brand new PC or personal computer. I remember using the internet over our phone line and watching as pictures showed up one line at a time - just downloading at lightning speed for the time.

I'm sometimes amazed at how fast we have come so far. In less than 40 years we have moved from slow calculators the size of ovens to super-fast computers that fit in the palm of our hands.

I wonder sometimes how far away could we possibly be from flying cars and robot friends.

Todays scripture is so poignant because it reminds us how very little we have moved in the last 2000 years.

We could almost imagine if any of the 12 disciples were to show up in our modern times - we could see the cartoon-y blooper wheel as he attempts to understand our modern life and its conveniences. He would surely be out of place in our busy city, with our fast cars, and our degrees. But, any of the twelve would fit right in with our people. While they wouldn't understand the microwave, they would certainly understand our greed, lust, envy and pride. They might be confused by such simple convenience as our electric kettle, but there would be no confusion regarding our worry.

It seems that as the modern era has moved forward we have begun to worry more and more. While we work fewer hours than most generations before us, live in larger houses, accomplish more with our time, and have a greater understanding of what financial security really means - we worry just as much as we ever have.

Jesus lays out a simple plan for his followers - do not worry - and yet by and large we ignore the advice.

Now I would think that if my friend went to the doctor to complain of a serious problem - and the doctor said that he would be cured if he eats a spoon full of sugar each day - that my friend would comply with that simple advice. But instead we find so many of our friends get sicker and sicker and refuse the simple advice of the doctor.

I had friends who graduated university with 40,000 dollars in debt and immediately decided that they needed to buy a six bedroom house in a nice neighborhood. And yet they couldn't understand why they had so much stress and why they worried so much.

Jesus tells us not to worry. Jesus, the homeless carpenter/teacher, tells the gathered crowd that they shouldn't worry. Now, clearly this is a little hard to take ... because, a little worry is good. The world tells us that we should be worried about finding a place to sleep, and food to fill our stomachs. We need to earn an income and pay bills in order to be a part of normal society.

But Jesus uses the most simple and beautiful illustrations.

Take the flowers of the field for an example. All flowers are beautiful. Even the ones that sprout up as weeds are actually quite pleasant to look at. Even though they are here one day and gone the next, God gives each flower a beautiful design.

For many of us, tomorrow is a scary concept. We don't know how we're going to make it to the end of the month, we don't know how we're going to finish building our house, we don't know how many more days we can survive just eating gretchka. We don't know how we could afford to live if our parents stopped paying for things - or we don't know how our parents could afford to live if we weren't paying for things.

We simply don't know what tomorrow holds.

But we know who holds tomorrow.

As Christians we believe that God is in control. Our lives should reflect that.

Here's an example. I believe in gravity. I think that gravity is real, and I believe that it affects my life. So, if I hold this object out and drop it - and then I want to find the object again - I should look on the floor for it. I shouldn't be surprised that it has fallen, and I shouldn't live as though I expected it to ignore gravity.

When we worry, we show strong evidence of our beliefs. Worry shows that we think we are in control - or that we don't trust God who is clearly in charge.

When we trust, we show strong evidence of our beliefs. We trust that God loved us enough to send Jesus to die on a cross for the forgiveness of our sins. If God loved us that much, why wouldn't God love us enough to take care of everything else? We trust in God for our eternal salvation, why wouldn't we trust God to also handle our finances? Our daily bread? Our interactions with others?

This is such a strong part of our testimony. In this postmodern world, we will rarely win people to the gospel of Jesus Christ by proving the logical facts of the Christian religion. We will only persuade people by the actions of our lives. We must show them that something in our lives is desirable.

The freedom to trust God and remove worry from our daily lives is a radical statement of faith.

I'll tell you this right now, if you leave this place and you genuinely live out the command "do not worry" you'll have people lining up behind you following you to church next week.

Take for example the birds of the air. They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet our heavenly Father feeds them. ... but deep down, don't we all want to be a little more like them. Don't we all just want to spread our wings and fly? Don't we all wish we had the freedom to fly?

There is freedom, a tremendous freedom, in the good words of our savior this day. This week, Jesus is challenging us to set our worry aside, to trust fully in the God of heaven and earth, and to spread our wings and fly.

On the road again...

2011-02-12T12:11:00.000-08:00

What does grace mean to you?

When we think of the idea of grace, it might be a little challenging. In Ukrainian it’s difficult to translate a sermon on grace, because there are lots of words to use – but maybe there isn’t an exact word.
It’s difficult in English as well. We primarily use the word “grace” in a church setting. We talk about dancers being “graceful” but that really loses the meaning of the word.

Because, really, when we look outside of the Christian religion we don’t see much grace. Grace is what separates Christianity from all the other world religions. While we might share a lot of the same Holy Scriptures, and even have similar ideas and stories about God – in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ we experience grace. We didn’t do anything to earn it; it is entirely a God-thing.

And in the Christian life, we experience grace a lot. We experience grace daily as we try to live out our faith, but we have also experienced grace before we ever realized it.

If you're a Pilgrim, grace should be meaningful to you. You should think of the ways that God has shown grace to you. You should be able to remember times when you have shown grace to others.

We titled this sermon series, "On the road again..." because we believe that as Pilgrims we are on a faith journey. We are going to focus on three stories of grace in the Bible. It just so happens that all of these people were on the road to somewhere when they experienced grace. David will preach about Saul on the road to Damascus, and Jesus on the road to the cross, but tonight I will talk about Jesus and the others on the road to Emmaus.

Please read this scripture with me.

Luke 24:13-35

When I was in Thailand I was visiting a museum near the hotel I was staying at. A young couple were having some photographs taken, and I was struck by how beautiful the young woman looked in her traditional Thai dress. I spoke a little bit with the couple and asked the woman if I could take a picture of her. I thought it was a little strange that she didn't seem embarrassed that some stranger would want her picture.

We talked a little more about the museum and about the weather, and I moved on with my vacation. The next morning I was reading the local paper and on the front page were several pictures of the royal family. Front and center I saw the young couple and the beautiful princess in the traditional wedding dress she had been wearing the day before at the museum.

I had accidentally met the princess of Thailand before the Thai people. I had talked with her about the weather without knowing who she was.

In the scripture story we see Jesus interacting with people long before they realize who He is. Jesus teaches these two men while they are on their journey. He explains the scripture and helps them to understand what it means.
God does this in our own lives as well.

So imagine that we are going on a long journey together. You don't know the destination, but you're ready to go anyway. You go to pack you bags, and you find that they are already packed. You think, "Oh, I'm sure I'll need toothpaste!" and you find that it's been packed. In fact, everything you think you will need is in your suitcase - as well as several items that you're sure you will never need.

So, let's take a sit before we go on our journey and just relax a little bit.

Here: I'll get us going with some stories:

I grew up in a Christian family and went to church every Sunday. I was a pretty bad little kid. I was so bad that one of my Sunday School teachers asked my parents not to bring me back. I hated going to church, and my parents forced me to go every week. I hated church, but I still knew that there was a hole in my heart. When I was 11 I went to a summer camp - during that week away I realized that I needed to turn my life over to God. I asked forgiveness for my sins and I tried to live differently.

Now, some would say that at this moment I experienced the grace of God. But, I believe it goes much further and much deeper than that. I believe that I experienced the grace of God long before I ever acknowledged God.

God was present in my life from before I was born. In Jeremiah it is written, "For I knew you before you were formed in your mother's womb." God had a plan and a vision for my life before my parents did.

John Wesley called this idea Prevenient Grace: literally, "the grace that comes before." He had an idea of how God had been active in his life from an early age. When he was five he was rescued from a house fire. He sat at his mother's feet as she led his father's congregation while he was away on business. He learned that his life mattered and that he better do something good with it. He learned that anyone could lead and that God called all people, regardless of wealth or class, to follow Jesus.

When John Wesley grew up he became a priest - but he felt that the church he loved so much didn't show or offer grace to people. Only the wealthy were welcome inside the church. So, John and his brother Charles began a crusade to change that. They began preaching outside of the church - wherever people would listen to them. They shared with others the goodness of God, and they told people that God offered them grace.
In their small groups they offered everyone the chance to experience and express the grace of God in their own life.

In the Bible story today what is the specific thing Jesus does when the men realize who they have been speaking with? Jesus breaks the bread. When he does this, their minds flash back to the last supper where Jesus broke the bread. He had told his disciples to remember him every time they broke bread. We experience grace every time we take communion. Maybe in your own faith journey you had your first communion long before God was an important part of your life. Maybe you just didn’t care about him, but week after week God showed you grace through communion.

---
I want you to think about the ways that God has come before and led the way in your life. I want you to think about how God showed grace before you even thought about God.

---

When I look at the path my life has led, I can see God's grace working long before I acknowledged God.

Just to give one example: When I was five or six my mother had a piano student named Maxine. Maxine was an older woman and her family had come to America from Slovenia. She spoke Slovene, and enjoyed teaching me words and phrases. Some weekends my mother and I would meet her at the local nursing home where many old people spoke Slovene. I would listen as they spoke and she would show off her little student to the other Slovene speakers. Well, fast forward to the present and (ena, dve, tri, schtiri, pet) sounds a lot like the numbers in Ukrainian. Now, not many young children in America grew up hearing and learning Slavic languages. Long before I was a Christian, God was preparing me for this period of my life - right here, right now, that I get to share with you.

And God is just as active in everyone's life. God slowly but surely presses people towards faith. He graciously guides them on the path of life.

1. I want you to share the ways that God led the way in your lives with the people around you. Take a few minutes to share a few stories or examples.
2. How did Jesus show grace to you on the path of life before you ever recognized him?
3. How have you showed the grace of God to others?
If someone in your group had a really good story, I want you to bring them up here and help them tell it.

-----

God is present in everyone's life. When I look at my path I see people who have showed me the grace of God.

Sometimes it's really hard to show grace to others. It's easier to judge - and, consequently, we judge a lot more than we show grace.

God wants to use us as a way to show grace to those who do not yet believe. We must always be looking for ways to reach out to others, to show them the grace and forgiveness of God, so that we may help God to build the road for them.

Dear friends, as Pilgrims we are on a journey. Long before we knew we would take the journey; God packed our bags, God set a direction, and God prepared our fellow Pilgrims to go with us.

We are on the road again ...

[[David Goran and I are co-preaching a 3 week sermon series. We are going to try to sing the Willy Nelson song, "On the Road Again" and I plan on working up a special music number with some of the musicians to go along with the theme. David will preach on Sanctifying and Perfecting grace.]]

What do these stones mean to you?

2011-02-04T07:47:00.000-08:00

Joshua 4:1-9

As a child I really looked up to my grandparents. They lived far away and we rarely saw them. I'm told that I was always an inquisitive child. I always asked a lot of questions - and worse - I always remembered the answers I was given. I remember asking my grandparents a lot of questions about religion - because they were old, and surely they had been around back when Jesus was alive. Certainly they were around back when the church first started. So, surely they should know the answers to my questions.

Our scripture starts from the idea of inquisitive children and grandchildren. Joshua places the stones so that one day, their grandchildren will ask, "What do these stones mean to you?" "Why are they here?"

And the story that they would tell their grandchildren goes something like this:

They came to the river and they had a pretty good understanding of what would happen next. They had heard the stories that their own grandparents had told them. They rejoiced over the fact that when their ancestors had been trapped against the Red Sea and Moses raised his arms the water parted and the people crossed.

But these stones are at a different river, and they celebrate a different time that the people crossed a river.

If you've heard of the story of Joshua crossing the Jordan river, you probably have a mental picture of some guys crossing a stream. But, this was flood season. The river was much wider than normal, and the river was rushing wildly.

They came to the river and this time everything was different. Moses wasn't present. Joshua was leading and he didn't raise his staff. Joshua sent the priests and the Ark of the Covenant first - into the wild rapids. He didn't tell them to wait for the water to part - he just told them to cross. But after the priests' feet were wet, the water stopped flowing and the Jordan river dried up past where the priests were standing.

So Joshua sets up these stones to remind the people of what God had accomplished.

---

I was on the phone with my grandfather a few nights ago and he had some questions for me about our church, "Now Michael, is the church there growing? It should be." I more than gladly gave him an honest answer.

[Bring up faithfulness report slides to show the congregation.]

One year ago we worshiped in the single digits. For months we worshiped without any children. This year we begin worship with very different numbers. The sounds of lots of children echo through our space. Last week we celebrated the fact that God has brought us a long way.

But, these stones also help us to look to the future. Today, we will celebrate where God will take us next.

What does God have in store for this community? Where will God take us?

Because I'm certain that God isn't done with us, yet. I'm sure that God has even bigger plans for us.

I believe that God will use the history we share of planting this church to help us plant other new churches. God is doing just that in Stree. God will do that in other cities as well.

God will use the history we share of starting the Sunday School to help us start similar programs for children in other areas or for other age groups.

God will challenge us to dig deep and to be faithful in our giving so that our church can survive without outside support - and more than that, our church will be able to readily expand ministry to those outside of our community.

God will use our shared history of beginning home groups to help us begin a movement of home groups. We will invite others into our groups and when we get too big to fit in our homes we will divide those groups up and multiply God's blessing.

And when we look at the pile of stones in front of us, and our children ask us why they are there, we can answer honestly - they are here because we chose to be faithful to the vision God had for us. We got our feet wet and God showed up in a powerful way.

----

One of my professors tells this story of his first year on the mission field. He was in the Philippines and it was monsoon season. He and his wife had spent almost the whole year in language classes. They struggled with the language, but were really beginning to become comfortable with it. His family was on an island with an active volcano and it began to erupt. They and another family started to drive to the relative safety of another island - but all of the bridges had been washed out by the rains and the rivers. So, as the flood waters were rising, and a volcano was exploding, they put a long plank across the river, and as the waters swept at their feet they placed their children on their shoulders and tight-rope-walked across the wet plank of wood. They watched as their car and their remaining possessions were swept away with the river and they continued to climb to safer ground.

But even after this miracle of their lives and safety, they were still incredibly frustrated. They hadn't seen any fruit from their ministry. They had worked so hard at learning the language - and now they were in a city where the people spoke an entirely different language and they couldn't go back to their village for at least a month. Staying at a guest house in the city, they really didn't have anything to do.

An older man came to the gate of the guest house - and in the language that my professor had learned he said, "You're the man." You're the one from my dream. These are the symbols."

Amid a confusing conversation it came out that the old man was the leader of a tribe high in the mountains on yet another island. He had a dream with the four symbols of the guest house sign and of the young man sitting on the porch. In the dream, the voice of God had told the older man to go and find this man and to listen to him. The old man said, "God told me to come and listen. Whatever you tell me, I and all of my village will repent and follow." My professor brought the man in and told him the good news of Jesus Christ. He accompanied the old man back to the village and together they shared the good news. The whole tribe rejoiced in the good news and became followers of Jesus Christ. They immediately began making plans to go and share the good news with the other tribes on the other mountains. They set aside the wars they had been waging for generations in order to share the good news.

We as a congregation have faced some hard challenges this year. It would be easy for us to ignore the miracle that we have survived this first year in one piece. It would be easy for us to be discouraged. But somewhere in this city is a man or a woman who is waiting to hear the Good News of Jesus Christ from you.

And when their children ask them - "What do these stones mean to you?" They will also have an answer.

Those stones mean everything to us. Those stones are here because God has led the way in our past and God will build for us a future.

In response...

2011-02-02T18:36:00.000-08:00

UMC.org recently posted an article about a statement recently released by 33 retired Bishops calling for an end to the ban of gay and lesbian clergy.

In opposition, Bishop Whitaker responded, "We have the Church — with a capital C — in many different cultural settings, and in those different cultural settings, there are different understandings of human sexuality. I think in making its decisions, the Church must be mindful of its responsibility to its members in all its cultural settings and not just select ones.”

This is a recurrent line by people who wish that the conversation would go away, and it is basically a moot point.

This statement is a double-edged sword. In some African, Asian, and Eastern European contexts the United Methodist Church would be laughed out the door and seen as a great disgrace for allowing gay and lesbian clergy. In other areas - Western Europe, some Asian countries, and some areas in the Americas - the United Methodist Church is ignored as culturally irrelevant for our sexual hang-ups and lack of acceptance.

I think that it would be foolish of any church to hold cultural norms as a deciding factor in theological ideals. The base point is that the Gospel of Jesus Christ transforms cultures. It doesn't bend and shape until it finds a comfortable position that lines up with society - it re-invents society.

When missionaries first went to Africa they reported cannibalism, inter-tribal warfare, the worship of animistic gods, and all other sorts of evil. The Gospel of Jesus Christ has transformed the lives of those present in the church. For those who have accepted the grace and love of Jesus Christ - animism, cannibalism, and other cultural items have become a historical footnote.

I'm not entirely convinced that our missionaries didn't also bring the strong hatred for GLBT people that is so prevalent. Along with the gospel, we imported many of our own cultural ideas and understandings. This is why many churches in Africa have pipe organs and bell towers. This might also be the reason that Christians in Africa believe it is okay to hate gay and lesbian people.

Ugandan David Kato, a gay rights activist, was recently murdered in his home after local newspapers posted photos and home addresses of many gay and lesbian people fighting for basic human rights. Allegedly, the paper specifically called for mob justice. The church was relatively silent on his death. In other parts of Africa recent reports indicate that the number of "restorative rapes," in which a lesbian is raped by groups of men in order to convince her to become heterosexual, is on the rise.

In Ukraine, where I serve as an Individual Volunteer, GLBT people are scared for their lives. I'm close friends with a lesbian couple - and they risk their lives every time they are seen together in public. I could write stories they have told me about the abuse they and their GLBT friends have endured; but you probably wouldn't believe them. One Christian who visited the United Methodist church in Ukraine asked me, "Do you beat homosexuals in America?" He went on to explain that maybe if we beat homosexuals in America we wouldn't have so many of them. This, he explains, is what he learned at his church.

So, the point has been raised that out of respect for Christians in other cultures we should drop the subject and stop pushing for the ordination of gays and lesbians. I would respond that out of love for the world, we should pray that Christ would transform their cultures - and that we must fight for the safety of gay and lesbian people in all countries.

On a recent trip to the Philippines I attended Makati City UMC. It's a medium size church in a shady section of Manila. Nestled between a trans-gender strip club and a Korean butcher shop, the church is literally caught in the middle of this issue. They have chosen the route of love. They love and support the GLBT community, and the youth are actively seeking ways to reach out to this community on their block.

When I was an exchange student in Russia I lived in a small town. There was only one small protestant church and there was only one other young person who attended. Masha and I were good friends because of our common faith. She came to me one day with a look of absolute brokenness. Her friend Misha, who was gay, was going to get beat up. The boys at school had apparently been planning it for several days and by the time Masha and I got there quite a large, angry mob had gathered around Misha. Luckily, a language-challenged American always serves as a good diversion - and Masha was able to help Misha escape. When I look back at all of my mission work; I would probably count that day as one of the most missional things I have ever done. Because Masha and I were protestants, it was a natural extension that we would protect someone from harm.

I guess in this conversation, one key distinction must be made clear: we must wait expectantly for Christ to transform our own culture as well. I am strongly opposed to legislative overhauls within the church. True transformation of hearts is needed on this issue. People must be convinced that God loves and accepts all people through an international grassroots effort. No vote at any General Conference will solve this problem - but consistent love and generous grace on a large scale would be able to change hearts and minds. When our denomination makes a stand that all people are worthy of the grace of God and that none is truly righteous to earn the calling of pastor - and extends ordination to all of our brothers and sisters in Christ - this will be one small step in the transformation of the world.

As United Methodist we are called to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. May it be so. Amen.

2011-02-01T13:58:00.000-08:00

Fred was born the son of a railroad worker. His mother died of throat cancer at 28. His great aunt raised him and his sister until his father could get back on his feet. She died in a tragic car crash some years later.

Fred graduated from high school as a bright 16 year old. He was accepted to West Point. One night he went to a Methodist revival meeting - and after that night he decided that he couldn't in good conscience attend West Point and he decided to become a minister instead. He worked with a Billy Graham crusade out west while he was in school

His education was rocky - but he eventually completed the necessary schooling to become a pastor and a lawyer. He was a great civil rights attorney - one third of the civil rights cases on the docket in Kansas were brought by him and his law firm. His children tell stories of their car windows being shot out while their father dismantled Jim Crowe laws.

Fred Phelps was ordained as the pastor of an independent baptist church. Over the years, he grew tired of watching other churches be weak on the issues of sin. There was a park near his home where many gay men went to find random partners. One day he intercepted as one man tried to lure his five year old son into the bushes. He began to place notices around the park, and asked other churches to join his crusade. As he grew angrier and more violent, the other churches slowly backed off their support. As the other churches showed their love of sin more, he became angrier and more violent.

Today Fred Phelps and his congregation are internationally infamous for their protests and picketing. The young man who pledged his life to God at 16 has followed a path that strays far from religious convention. He has taught his children and his grandchildren to hate in the name of Jesus.

We risk so much in preaching the gospel. We have no control over how people hear the words we say, or what they will do with it. The person in the pew could be the next Billy Graham or the next Fred Phelps. They could take your words out of context and come to any conclusion they want.

And that's a risk we must be willing to take. We must humbly offer our words up to God - in the full knowledge that they are either his or they aren't worth speaking.

Beatitudes

2011-01-18T00:08:00.000-08:00

I'm not very good at reading my Bible as often as I should. I know - this is probably shocking news for everyone. One would assume that as the intern I would be perfect in every way. But, that would be a wrong understanding.

I have various reasons for not reading my Bible. Most often I just forget, or I get distracted, or I'm "too busy," or any other number of excuses. But sometimes I just don't want to read the Bible. Sometimes it's hard to view the Bible as a message of love. After a lifetime spent with this book, and with the people who read it - sometimes I just get really discouraged. I get really furious at the people who misrepresent the Bible to justify their own hate. It makes me really sad to think of all the terrible things throughout history that have been justified by the Bible. It makes me sad that people are still using the Bible for this purpose. It breaks my heart that people who have only read a few select verses feel that they can speak for all of the Bible and for all of Christianity. And sometimes I blame all of this on the Bible itself.

Which, to be honest, that's a really childish response. But, childish or not, it's what I've done for a long time. But I realized a few years ago that there was one part of the Bible that I could always turn to. When things are really bad in my life, when my faith is in tatters, and when the world is really dark I can always turn to this one small section and I can be filled with hope again. Let's turn to the beatitudes and read them today.

:: Matthew 5:3-11 ::

The beatitudes are the opening stanza of the Sermon on the Mount.

They say that the most difficult part of writing a book is writing the first sentence. It's really intimidating to write the first sentence of a sermon as well. Some pastors always start with a joke, others give an update on their lives. I had a pastor once that would always start by talking about the most recent football or basketball scores. It really is unnerving to stand up in front of people and begin a sermon. I feel that it's like jumping in to a swimming pool - it's better to just jump in and get used to the water right away rather than to wade in slowly. Jesus not only jumps into the water - he dives head first into the messy swamp of humanity.

Some call this particular sermon Jesus is preaching, The Upside Down Kingdom. Jesus takes the whole world and turns it upside down.

---

Jonathan and I were roommates in University. We were very close friends and we would talk almost every night until we fell asleep. A lot of the time we would talk about happiness and how to be happier. I was happy while I was in school. I had good friends, a nice apartment, a wonderful church family, and I enjoyed my classes. But I felt that my happiness should depend on what was going on around me. If I got good grades I would be happier. If I ate thick, juicy steak I would be happier than if I ate a more meager diet. I was happy being single, but I felt that if I could just be in a healthy relationship that I would be truly happy.

I was letting outside influences dictate my happiness, not only that but the thoughts and opinions of others also played a huge factor. I didn't like steak more than chicken - but other people thought I should ... so I did.

---

Last year I got a phone call from my friend Jonathan. His call was not a happy one. He was calling to inform me that he had been diagnosed with stage four cancer in several parts of his body. They were measuring his life in months or weeks - not years. There were a lot of unknowns. I just remember vomiting until I was dry heaving. I couldn't keep food down for days. My body and my mind were in shock.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,for they will be comforted.

These aren't some far off promises that some day life will get better. Jesus says, "You are truly blessed when you find yourself mourning." It's not that right now you are mourning, but some day you will be blessed. In this moment of mourning - find yourself blessed.

And we did. Throughout this last year Jonathan has suffered unbelievable hell. He has taken chemotherapy treatments that should have killed him. And through it all his faith in Christ has grown deeper and he has taken a stranglehold on joy. Through this year we have been taught to live in the joy of Christ. We don't try to be happier, we just enjoy the joy that being a small part of God's creation brings.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.

These blessings come with promises. In our meekness we are blessed and we will inherit the earth. In our hunger for righteousness we are blessed and we will be filled.

The promise isn't that we are going to get better. Jesus never promises that we will live up to earthly standards. The poor won't win the lottery, the meek won't become star athletes. But Jesus promises that they will have a much greater reward.

Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.

Because we feel so certain that we know how to define success. The new Ukrainian with the bodyguard and the super sexy trophy wife - man, he's living the life. But Jesus challenges us on each assumption. He forces us to look at the beggar with no legs or the blind woman playing her accordion and he makes us see that they are blessed. That God loves them. That we are rewarded for being merciful to them, that we will see God when we can look at them with pure hearts and love them like God does.

If we see anything less than Jesus when we look at these people, we have missed the point. In the beatitudes, Jesus writes an autobiography. Jesus is our model, our example, and our guide.

Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.

Who is God's son? Who is the child of God? Who came and lived among us and died that we might find peace with God?

Jesus is the peacemaker, and because of him we too can become peacemakers. We can make a difference in the world around us. Our humble lives of peace lived in service of Jesus of Nazareth will change the world. Jesus shows us the way to live the upside down life - to truly turn the world upside down.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.

Don't think for a second that you can turn the world upside down without some consequences. When you reject the world's standard of success, the world will reject you.

People will hate you and you will not fit in.

But you will be blessed. You will be a child of God and you will inherit the Promised Land.

Blessed are you!

Light of the World

2011-01-17T05:07:00.000-08:00

This Thursday we are going to have a drama performed. This sermon will be in response to that drama.

The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness has never put it out.

Amen.

Over the weekend I visited the museum at Auschwitz. This was the site of the largest Nazi concentration camps. More than a million people were murdered there. It was really overwhelming more than anything else. I kept wanting to change the subject in my head, to push out the bad. I kept turning to the song that we sing at Pilgrims so often. In my head I would start singing, "Oh, how he loves us..." but then my inner voice would scream, "Stop!" "Don't love us ... look at how evil we are! Look at what we are capable of doing! Why would you ever love us?"

And my sins aren't that great either. While I've never masterminded the genocide of a people, I have messed up the lives of others in fairly substantial ways. I've hurt other people and felt no sympathy. I have committed terrible sins. My sins are great, but my savior is greater.

My pastor told this story once. He knew a man who was very strict and severe. The man was very conservative and was very strict with his daughters. They weren't allowed to date until they were 18. When his youngest daughter was in college she got knocked up.

He immediately disowned her and vowed that he would never speak to her again. But nine months later the baby was born and his wife was able to convince him to see the new baby. She was certain that if he could just see the little bundle of joy that all would be forgiven.

The day came and his daughter walked into the house with the baby in her arms. The man took the baby in his own arms and sat down in his chair. He held the baby in his arms and began to cry.

He stood back up and he handed the baby back to its mother. He said, "I never want to see you or this baby again."

These last few weeks we have celebrated the birth of Jesus - we have enjoyed the traditions of our Christian faith. We have looked the Holy Baby in the face - and now we must make the decision. Do we want him to be a part of our lives? Or will we reject him? We can't just pretend that everything is okay. We can't say that we like the idea of the baby but that we like our lives they way they are. If we want Christ to have a part in our lives, we must be ready to give him all of our lives.

It's during these times that we are most likely to lose our focus and our connection. It's a dark time right now for many of us. We're busy studying and we have so many things to do. It's hard to balance finals and holidays and the people we love. It's harder to make Christ the center for all of that time. I know that this upcoming week is going to be especially challenging for many of you. I love nothing more than an extra challenge! Around this room there are sign up sheets. We are going to have a busy-persons' retreat this week.

This will be a time for us to gather together, to relax, to calm down, and to re-energize our souls. We will focus on the beatitudes. There are five options - and I want everyone to choose at least one of these options. They are each offered on different days and at different times. I want everyone to set aside one extra hour this week to focus on God and what God has in store for our lives.

The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness has never put it out.

January Game

2011-01-09T15:31:00.000-08:00

http://www.supercook.com/

So, this is a fun tool for mid-stage January game play. You can enter all the ingredients you have in your house and it will generate recipes for you based on the food you currently have.

It could definitely use more vegetarian options (or I could have stock piled more meat in December) and it would be best if you could sort foods by complexity (i.e: to be able to make the dish that uses the most ingredients) or the strangest (i.e: to find a recipe that calls for coconut milk before I use up everything else I would need to use the coconut milk.

My Birthday Party

2011-01-09T12:38:00.001-08:00

I'm officially 24. Here's a short video of the party we had at the student center.

January Game post #3

2011-01-07T11:49:00.000-08:00

So, the only thing I've been getting rid of lately has been my money. It was my birthday and I broke the rules a few times. I might break them again. The good news is that I now have a refrigerator full of leftovers and a well stocked pantry to destroy this month.

Debbie Airgood, who also plays the January game, made her first purchase of the month. She found a can of discontinued Pumpkin and bought it. Shelf life, Shmelf life. I wish I had her commitment.

I also received a ton of birthday presents. So far I'm definitely losing the January game. But, the holidays are over - and I think that I'm going to do just fine the rest of the month.

January Game #2

2011-01-04T03:08:00.000-08:00

So today I cleaned out my inbox and my wallet. I deleted over 600 messages ... which still leaves over 700 messages! At least I tried.

I also cleaned out my wallet - only to discover that my debit card will no longer work because it is past the expiration date. So ... I only have a small amount of cash and my credit card until my new debit card comes in the mail. Haha. I generally plan ahead for such circumstances!

January Game post #1

2011-01-03T06:32:00.000-08:00

Okay. These are the first two things I've removed from my life. This is one of my suitcases. The wheels don't work anymore, and I've been worrying about carting it home. So - I will officially return to the states with only one suitcase.

My mystery St. Nicholas gave this to me. Sadly, it's arm broke off. I figured that I would eventually throw it away when I left, so I might as well bite the bullet today and chuck it. It was a nice gift idea ... so thanks if you gave it to me.

The January Game

2010-12-30T05:19:00.001-08:00

So this year I will resume the January Game.

Last January I was reliant upon the kindness of strangers for my housing - and while I briefly advocated the January Game, it was Mongolia and things stored in freezers were meant to last as long as possible and to be savored rarely.

The basic rules of the January Game are simple:

1. Don't purchase any food until you have finished everything in storage.
2. You may buy bread, milk, and one other item each week.
3. Create one new feature to enhance the game and personalize it - the new feature should focus on simplifying life, generating surprise income, or saving money.

My friends Jared and Janet (and now Jovi Indigo!) Kaup taught me the game a few years ago. In the final days of January we ate a shrimp pizza made from biscuit dough, shrimp dipping sauce, Parmesan cheese, and frozen shrimp. It was delicious.

One January I put all of my books up for sale on Amazon and made a few hundred dollars. The same January my friends cleaned our the garage and returned all unused supplies to the hardware stores they had purchased the items at. You would be surprised the amount of cash that we just sit on in our daily lives.

This year will be a little difficult because I live with roommates and they eat my food - so I don't have much stockpiled. I envision a lot of rice happening at the end of the month.

My extra component this year will focus on simplifying my life.

I will remove one item a day from my life. This means that I will either throw away, give away, sell, return, or re-purpose one item every day.

On January 1st I will throw away one of my suitcases. The wheels are broken, and I have been dreading carting it to the airport in that condition - so instead I will only take one suitcase back to the states. This means that I will need to let go of many things between now and then. When I have the time and energy I will post pictures and stories of things as they leave me throughout the month of January.

Togetherness

2010-12-28T05:55:00.000-08:00

[This is the sermon for the sixth week of Advent. We will read the stories of the Magi and the Shepherds and light the разом (togetherness) candle. With this sermon, we will finish discussing each of the major players in the birth narrative. The following Friday Pastors David Goran and Lyubomir Rudko will preach together for the Christmas sermon. That will be followed by a "leftover lunch."]

The magi are exactly the people we would expect to be searching for the baby king. They are wealthy and wise. They knew enough to follow a strange star in the west as far as it would take them. They knew that they were coming upon something wonderful – but they don’t know exactly what they are looking for. They bring lavish gifts – gold, frankincense, and myrrh. These are expensive gifts – but they are gifts better suited to an old man; they are burial items. Kings were buried with gold – and mummified using these spices. The gifts they bring prove that they were not expecting to find a baby in a manger at the end of their journey.

The shepherds weren’t expecting to go on a journey at all. They were quietly watching their sheep at night when an angel shoots into the sky. The terrified common laborers are ready to head for the hills when the angel explains that a baby is coming and that baby is the promised Messiah. And after this amazing light show they all begin to lead their sheep into the chaotic city because they don’t want to miss a thing.

The magi are wealthy elites. The shepherds are poor and dirty. We see both of these groups in our time.

We see the new Ukrainians in their fancy cars that we couldn’t even afford to wash.

We see the people working to fix our streets and the children raising chickens in the village.

But we don’t see these peoples coming together. We don’t see them sitting in a café and sharing lunch or working together on some project. We never associate these people.

But in the story of the birth of Jesus these two groups are side by side. They are both given miraculous signs showing that something amazing is happening – and they both follow because they don’t want to miss out.

My friend Joe was a pastor at a very large church in a city in America. The church was very old and historic, as well as very rich. There was one man in particular who was filthy rich. He was old money – his family had been unfathomably wealthy for generations. He was really a stereotype of wealthy people. He wore a three-piece suit to church every Sunday. He was driven into the city by his driver.
One Sunday the church was particularly full. There were very few seats left. Right before the service began a homeless man walked in. If you hadn’t seen him you would have smelled him. He wandered up and down the aisle looking for a seat. Everyone was a little astonished to hear the voice of the rich man in the three piece suit. He said, “Excuse me, sir? There’s a seat right over here” as he moved over. The homeless man squeezed into the seat next to the wealthy man – and they worshipped together.

The story of Jesus is the only thing that can bring people together. Only the grace of God can bring wealthy rulers and poor farmers into the same barn to see the miracle of the baby king.

Because of Jesus we can put our differences aside and share life together. This Friday (the 7th) we are going to come together and share a meal. On the days leading up to Christmas we will all be busy preparing the twelve traditional dishes to share with our families – and after the huge feast we will all be left with lots of food. We are asking that the following morning you pack up some of that food and bring it here to share with us.

The idea is that we all will bring different food prepared in different ways by different people. But, when we bring it all together we will share in a complete feast. We will be able to come together and relax and enjoy each other’s company. And in the same way God has brought us to this place. We all have different personalities and gifts – but God brings us together into one body. Together we can do more than we could ever dream to do alone. Together we are complete.

The Magi and the Shepherds show us that all may come to the King and worship. Gentile or Jew, white or black, rich or poor, foreign or local, educated or simple – it doesn’t matter who you are. What matters is that we are willing to come into the manger and worship the King - together.
Amen.

2010-12-23T04:33:00.001-08:00

Words matter.

Growing up we used to sing-song, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me."

Now, clearly this is the greatest lie we were taught as children - because words do hurt.

There has recently been a campaign to stop using "The 'I-word' because of it's inherently negative implications. Illegal, is the "I-word" if you missed it ... because I know I did. I had to read the article a few times to catch the reference. To reference immigrants as "illegals" is hurtful.

When I lived in Korea, I constantly heard the Korean words for "foreigner" and "American." It was the tone and the staring that hurt most. Daily I was reminded that there was something shameful about my presence. Being treated poorly didn't make me want to become a stronger member of society.

In Ukraine I am at least given a little dignity - and I work hard to return the favor. I work harder to learn Ukrainian because I know that I will be rewarded for my effort. I adopt many Ukrainian habits and customs because I genuinely enjoy a culture that would welcome and accept me.

The huge part of the immigration problem in America is that we fail to show respect. Our motivation for showing respect is not that they have earned it, but because we are good people. We are better than racist slurs and hurtful comments. Let's work hard so that they will have a reason to work hard. Let's be kind, welcoming, and generous - and let's watch todays illegals become tomorrows productive citizens.

Dort.

2010-12-19T08:33:00.000-08:00

My grandmother was a terrible driver. In my memory she didn't drive until after her husband had passed away. It seems that she sold the clunky "free-candy" van that my grandfather preferred and traded up for a rice-burner of some variety. There was a lot of shame in what seemed to me a no-brainer. Grandma wore a foam neck-brace for a while after an accident of some kind, but I think that after every drive to the corner store she could have used her neck brace.

And, yes, she would drive to the corner store. She would come back later if there wasn't a convenient parking space, too. Once, after she had moved to live closer to our family, I was riding with grandma in her car. We pulled into the first intersection off of her street and were almost hit by an oncoming truck. Grandma quickly whipped up her stubby little arm and threw out her stubby, middle finger.

"Grandma! How could you flip him off?"
"I didn't flip nobody off. I wouldn't do nothing like that."
" Grandma! I saw you flip him off!"
"Well, he deserved it."

Grandma made a much better backseat driver. I laughed riotously through Flannery O'Connor's "A Good Man is Hard to Find." I had been the child strapped into the back seat with that old woman. I knew her well. Grandma was the best backseat driver in the world.

If anyone even tapped the breaks with a little too much gusto her goiter would start acting up or some such nonsense. It was always something. The arm that would fly twelve feet up into the air during a rendition of the "chicken dance" at a wedding or hoe-down couldn't muster the altitude or strength to reach for the seatbelt.

This was always the first argument. It was never the last.

As a child it was just an assumed fact that a car was either going too fast or too slow. Prodded by my grandmother's nagging I assumed that the speed limit was a fixed number. If the sign read 55, cars were expected to drive at exactly 55 MPH - the wand couldn't be at 54 and certainly not at 56. I still drive with this secret knowledge.

With Dort as the backseat driver we never arrived anywhere too early or too late. We never veered off course. We never stopped to see side attractions that would prolong our trip for another second.

Theology is a great backseat driver. It keeps us on track and in a timely manner. But, in all honesty, it's probably a terrible driver. Theology should always take a back seat to the practice of loving people. If your theology isn't big enough to include someone or some group in those you count as beloved - you have probably let theology sit in the driver's seat for far too long.

Because theology finds it far too easy to flip people off. When we focus on the intellectual pursuits of our faith it is much too easy to forget about people. Suddenly figuring out the exact number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin becomes more important than having people over for dinner and a movie.

But we can't dispense of theology. We need it's ever-present voice nagging from the backseat. We need our love to be tempered with truth and our actions to speak to a greater understanding.

It's important that theology is along for the ride, but it's equally important that it's not steering the car.

Students First

2010-12-15T03:41:00.000-08:00

If there is one cause to support - this is it. Michelle Rhee has launched a new initiative to reform education.

If anyone is capable of such an undertaking - it is her.

I really encourage you to check out studentsfirst.org and consider how you can be part of lasting change in your community.

The war that was and is and maybe ever shall be.

2010-12-14T01:46:00.000-08:00

It began with a mouse.

This particular mouse was charming and delightful and decorative. Its head fit over the handle of a plunger and it concealed the plunger, as well as several rolls of toilet paper. It arrived from Grandma Airgood's house after she moved into a smaller residence.

Little did we know that it was only the beginning of the great bathroom wars.

In the house in which I grew up it was made quite clear by our choice of toilet paper that someone in the house had lived through the great depression. It seems that our toilet paper was made out of recycled paper: specifically old sears catalogs and sandpaper. I'm the only American who seems impressed by how soft and fluffy the Soviet era newsprint toilet paper is in Russia.

This was but a small part of our bathroom's theme. The theme was nautical, really. Nautical in the sense that if it didn't belong in a navy war ship's bathroom - it didn't belong in ours. Our bathroom was so sterile one could have performed surgery on any counter top. The decorations amounted to the towels on the back of the door and soaps that changed colors with whatever hotel we had stayed in last.

At grandma Airgood's house they used the softest, most fluffy toilet paper known to man. Only 8 sheets fit on a standard roll. Layers of moisturizer and skin softener were cleverly folded into each blanket of toilet paper. Being in their bathroom was like being in a cocoon. Every surface was soft and snuggly.

Soon after both of his parents were dead, my father decided that he needed a bathroom exactly like the one in the house where he had grown up. He claimed the downstairs bathroom and began subtly making changes.

First he bought a squishy toilet seat. When one is accustomed to a toilet seat more fitting of Auschwitz, a plush toilet seat is a bizarre addition. Mother's motto was "If it isn't cold to sit on, it doesn't belong in our house." This was soon topped by a yarn-knit toilet seat cover and floor wrap around. We all waited in anticipation for the doily and accompanying Barbie (in a hand-knit formal ball gown) that had once sat upon the back of the throne at Grandma and Grandpa Airgood's house - but apparently they were out of stock at Wal-mart.

When he covered the walls with the Formica of his childhood and bought a sink support stand for a sink that didn't need supporting we all knew that the battle was coming to a head. It was so bizarre to see my father as a decorator - to watch him meticulously pick out curtains. He even built the window to be smaller than it was - and it seems that the only octagonal window in the neighborhood belongs to our house now.

Like the detailed Model-T plastic toys he had built as a child - he had created an exact replica of the bathroom of his childhood. Right down to the decorative soaps.

Dad made several attempts to convert the upstairs bathroom - but mom wouldn't budge. The first several comfy toilet seats installed in the upstairs bathroom mysteriously cracked. Like an emo middle schooler, she kept blaming the cat even though it was much too straight to have been done by a claw.

Like some infamous Koreas, the war is at a standstill. A shot hasn't been fired for several years - but the innocent victims live in fear. What if Wal-mart runs a special on plastic cup dispensers and Disney-themed paper cups? What if a wicker/marble hamper becomes available on Ebay?

2010-12-13T09:26:00.000-08:00

I haven't really thought about writing in a long time. There are many things that I wish I could write. Commonly, I simply need to start writing and see what comes out. Generally, I need to let something rest for a few weeks and then try to re-write it. Generically, I'm not impressed with anything I've written thus far.

I have written a select few short stories. They smack of the love child of Steven King and Truman Capote. I wouldn't let you read them, let alone consider trying to get them published.

I have a great deal of respect for Stephen King. His stories are stunning works - they are technically well written; but more than that - they practically dance. You can't put the books down. I also respect that his children have done their own thing. He has a son who happens to be a writer. He writes under a pseudonym because he doesn't want to sell books based on his father's popularity. He has a daughter who is an Episcopalian priest and wins awards for her stunning sermons.

Part of my problem is the nagging feeling that my generation is overexposed and that I'm simply another kid with a blog. Writers should be above the blogosphere - they should eschew modern technology and check typewriters while traveling like David Sedaris is want to do. They should at least know grammar. A writer creates new uses for punctuation as a means of artistic expression - not because he simply doesn't know how to use it ~ like really; I have no: clue.

Or perhaps I'm not tortured enough. I'm not even as tortured as those who must read my clunky paragraph transitions. I live a happy life. I'm not an alcoholic. I'm busy but not stressed. I laugh often and loudly.

So maybe I'll start to think about writing a little more often. I could work on some more short stories or at least a few magazine articles.

3rd Person Christmas Letter

2010-12-10T00:36:00.000-08:00

Michael Airgood has had a very exciting year.

In January, Michael celebrated his birthday with a great meal with friends and a flight the following day to begin a new adventure. He left South Korea for Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, where he served as an Individual Volunteer with the United Methodist missionary community there.

Michael worked with the third UM church planted in that country and walked through the ancient palace on his way to work every day. It didn't get over -20 Celsius while he was in country.

In March he left the wonderful people of Mongolia to serve as the intern at Molod do Isusa, a student-led inter-confessional student ministry in L'viv, Ukraine. The missionaries, David and Shannon Goran, were going back to the states for a few months to have their first child and they left Michael in charge of their house and some of their responsibilities at the student center.

During this time Michael had very special visitors. Debbie and Jim Airgood came all the way from lil' ole' Kane, Pennsylvania to L'viv Ukraine for a week long visit. Jim ate Big Macs after sampling the vegetarian fare Michael prepares and Debbie played an incredibly out of tune piano (beautifully) to the utter delight of Michael's students.

Michael re-imagined the English club and has turned it into a fun, hipster outlet for young people to express their opinions on difficult social issues. More than 30 young people show up on a regular basis for the class/discussion group.

Michael has been one of the people shepherding the new United Methodist church plant in L'viv, Ukraine. In March the average attendance was in the single digits. This month we have averaged 25+. The Sunday School could be used as a model for teaching any Christian Education class.

Over the summer Michael attended the Global Young People's Convocation and Legislative Assembly in Berlin, Germany. He had a wonderful time connecting with other young people across the connectional system. Michael read the scripture in Russian one morning at worship and spoke on the floor several times during plenary sessions.

Michael spent a month working with St. Luke's family center in Kyiv. It was a big time of growth in Michael's life. It was very difficult, but extremely rewarding for him.

These last few months Michael has preached almost every week at one venue or another. This surprises no one more than Michael himself. He never saw himself in a preaching capacity. More than 40 students showed up last night to hear him preach at Pilgrims, the Thursday night student worship service. He has gained a reputation for out-of-the-box sermon illustrations. Last night it involved knife throwing.

He rents a small room in a communal apartment in a nice suburb of L'viv. His roommates are all Ukrainians, all vegetarians, and all artists. He loves them dearly and is quite thankful for his new "family."

Michael's son (Vassya cat) is enjoying his vacation time in Siberia (Pennsylvania), but wishes his dad would hurry up and come home.

Michael plans to return to the states on April 8, 2011. He will pursue seminary while (hopefully) serving as a student pastor. He is still in the application process to become a full time GBGM missionary.

Dating Sermon

2010-12-07T23:11:00.000-08:00

First I want you to know that I'm probably not the person to be up here. I have very little experience with dating - and, since I'm single and not married, you can probably figure out that all of my past dating relationships have ended and some of them ended badly. So take my portion of this sermon with a grain of salt.

When we pick a topic we like to open our bible and look for biblical examples. But, with this particular topic, that's a little difficult. Our concept of dating doesn't really line up with the Bible in any significant way.

Adam and Eve was the match made in heaven. Literally. But who did their sons marry? Really? We could go through the list of Old Testament heroes ... but we won't find much dating advice. A few fell in love - but the usual outcome was that the man had to work for the woman's father for seven years to earn enough for the dowry payments.

In Biblical times marriages were arranged affairs. Parents, relatives, and villages arranged marriages. Usually there was a financial reason - rarely was love ever brought into the equation. And while I'm sure that many of your parents would love it if this was still the case, we live in a different world and a different culture. Jesus didn't ride in automobiles - but that doesn't mean that we should avoid them.

We must take a step back and look for larger themes to see what the Bible teaches us about dating.

Jesus spoke about love all the time. Specifically, Jesus calls us to sacrificial love - to living with love that serves others and hopes for good. Paul uses the love of Jesus Christ as the example for our married lives - that we should love our spouse so much that we would be willing to die for him or her. That wives should serve their husbands like Christ served the world and that husbands should love their wives like Christ loved the world.

It's interesting that there is so little discussion on this subject. While dating and romantic relationships are a huge part of our lives - the scriptures are fairly quiet on the issue. We don't find chapter after chapter of teaching on this subject. Jesus doesn't say, "And if he tries to kiss you on the second date you should break up with him." Jesus doesn't say, "You should buy her jewelry to show that you're interested." Our understanding of dating and relationships are primarily culture. The tension is primarily between what we have been taught, what we believe, and the traditions of our country vs. Hollywood.

Hollywood would like us to believe that every couple hops into bed on the first date - and this simply isn't true. We don't run after our significant other and catch her before she gets on the plane. The first kiss isn't perfect.

Hollywood and Ukrainian culture both agree on one thing - if you aren't in a relationship you are basically worthless. A Hollywood actress who is 25 and single should start adopting cats and suffer her single life for eternity - and here in Ukraine it seems that things are worse.

Within minutes of meeting people they ask if I am married. When they find out that I'm not married and not dating - they immediately begin throwing women at me. I know this isn't just because I'm an American. I know that there is a ton of social pressure in this culture to get married.

I'm of the opinion that you should give yourself a little slack. You should have fun and enjoy dates. You should put up boundaries and discuss them with people you are dating because you are worth waiting for. Take things slow and enjoy the ride. Listen to the opinions of your parents - but feel free to let them know that you aren't in any rush and that you're really happy at just the spot you're at.

But, if you're still feeling that pressure - we want to give you some tips, advice, and guidance on how to take the next steps. So ... we're going to play a little game.

Welcome to the dating game.

ласкаво просимо на -гра у побачення!-

[ At this point, I will become the announcer for a fun, new dating game show. Shannon will be the female contestant and David (along with two of our most handsome students) will be a male contestant. The whole thing will be done in Ukrainian - which is a big step for all of us. We're all nervous. But it should be good. During the game David will preach twice on topics of dating and we will end with Shannon closing the sermon. ]

Sermon

2010-12-06T03:15:00.000-08:00

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death. For what the law was powerless to do because it was weakened by the flesh, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace." - Romans 8:1-6

Today I want to talk about sin. So go ahead and pull out your sack cloth and ashes - set your face to shame ... because you are a sinner.

Yes, you. I'm talking about you and your sins today.

"For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." (Rom. 3:23) We read this passage and we feel that we couldn't agree more. But, really, when this was written it was a radical statement. In the beginning of the Christian Church there was huge debate over who could become a Christian. Many people felt that only Jewish people were worthy of God's love. But Paul believed differently. Paul believed that the only qualification a person needed to become a Christian was to be human - to be a sinner.

This is the thing that binds all of us together. We are humans and we sin - we make human choices.

What is sin, anyway?

The word sin means "to miss the mark."

(Have someone come up and I'll pretend to be a knife thrower)

So, you may not know this, but I used to be a knife thrower in a carnival. I apologize in advance - I don't have my usual knives - they're still in the evidence room of a police station back in the states.

So - would it matter to you if I missed the mark by a little bit or a lot?

In the Old Testament we are given a lengthy list of "Thou Shalt Nots" And we know these rules. We are taught the 10 commandments. We know that we are supposed to feel endlessly guilty for our sexual transgressions. We know what sins are the "big sins."

But I want to challenge this thought process.

All sins are equal. When we sin we hurt God. We turn our back on the God who loves us and we say that our way is better. It's important that the first sin was something as simple as eating an apple. We would like to think that if we had been in that garden we would not have eaten the fruit - but in reality we would have. We make the decision every day that our choices are better than the options God has for us.

In the ten commandments we are taught "Though Shalt not covet." And, I never really understood what that was all about. I mean, when I covet - no one is hurt. As an American, coveting is part of our cultural heritage. We are taught daily to covet. Some day you'll have a nice job, a nice house, and a trophy wife.

What could possibly be sinful about wanting those things. But when we covet, we decide that the future God has for us is insufficient. We decide that we could do things better on our own. We decide that God didn't know what he was talking about and that the apple probably tastes pretty good.

So what is sin? Sin is when we decide that our way is better than God's way. We miss the mark. In this game, close doesn't count. Either we hit the target or we don't.

And while all sins are equally bad - some are more dangerous than others.

In America we're all terrified of sharks. We have oceans on either side of us and we're all afraid of shark attacks. We even have "Shark Week" where the discovery channel focuses on the dangers of sharks. In actuality - very few people are injured by shark attacks. In fact - more people choke to death on McDonald's french fries every year than die from shark attacks.

But ... we don't have "French Fry Week" on the Discovery channel.

The sins that are most dangerous are the sins that we commit without guilt or shame - the rules we break without even thinking about it. None of us would break the 6th or 7th commandment- we know not to kill or to commit adultery. Yet, when Jesus gives the sermon on the mount he shares that if you hate someone in your heart that you have killed him. If you have a lustful thought you have committed adultery.

The sins that we feel are most egregious are probably cultural taboos that also happen to be against the Bible. The sins that God grieves most are sins that we ignore - usually in the Bible these are sins that involve inequality. God is angry that we continually ignore the systemic abuses perpetuated against the poor. The sins that should trouble our hearts are the sins that have a consequence on others.

In the United Methodist Church we read this confession together. It's good for the soul to confess our sins. Would you join me?

Merciful God,
we confess that we have not loved you with our whole heart.
We have failed to be an obedient church.
We have not done your will,
we have broken your law,
we have rebelled against your love,
we have not loved our neighbors,
and we have not heard the cry of the needy.
Forgive us we pray.
Free us for joyful obedience,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

This confession ends with the idea - free us for joyful obedience. We make our own choices - and our prayer is that every day we move a little closer to the ideals of perfection. This is a tightrope walk and it's tricky.

On one side is a fear of all things sinful. If we lean too far to that side - if we even look at a sinner - we might fall into sin. The other side is that we are free to do anything - and that we can even indulge in sin.

We must be careful to live in this tension.

John Wesley said, "When our hearts are filled with the love of God, there will be no more room for sin." And while I'm a long way away from this ideal - in my heart I really believe this.

In University I knew so many Christians who wanted so desperately to be sinless. They would fight their sins with every breath they had. And they just happened to be the most joyless people I've ever met. They were missing the mark.

By choosing to live in their own power and to not live in the freedom of God's love they were choosing their way over Gods and they were living in sin.

Your sins are not enough to weigh you down. Your sins are enough to make you human - and the grace of Jesus Christ is sufficient. His sufficiency is enough to set you free. If you are a Christian your job is to live in the joy of freedom.

2010-12-02T00:43:00.000-08:00

I had a haircut and shave yesterday. I feel much more human.

Rebecca is on the lookout for a new hooded sweatshirt for me.

Soon I will look less homeless.

2010-11-30T06:18:00.001-08:00

I look a little more homeless with each passing day. The stains build up on my hooded sweatshirt. When I was in Poland I visited a friend who wore the same size clothes. I've never really shared clothes with anyone, but he wanted to go out with the same friends on different nights and I only brought (own) one dress outfit. I knew he would be a little embarrassed by my slovenly appearance so I asked to borrow some clothes. I looked good in his designer clothes. But I didn't look like me. Something about the Michael Airgood persona (please, wait in anticipation for the annual third person Christmas letter) just doesn't fit with a piece of cloth that cost $200.

There was something off.

At funerals and weddings I get all dressed up and I feel so wrong.

I tell my mother that I 'm just trying to be more like Jesus and he was homeless. Why can't I try to look like him?

David Sedaris, a humorist, writes an article about looking like a hobo or a bum. He narrows in on the fact that these words have been replaced by sterilized, yet inaccurate, words like "homeless person." A hobo is a person who chooses to be homeless. A world without a mortgage and the constraints of a 9 to 5 job.

I don't know if I'm there yet. But I know that I'm happy. And I think that's what matters most when it comes to fashion and appearance.

Okay, to be fair - some of these stains are from whitewash ... and I just hadn't noticed them yet. But, still, pretty dang homeless.

Advent 1 Sermon

2010-11-27T08:33:00.000-08:00

[So this sermon will kick off our Advent season at L'viv UMC. Our Advent season will be 7 weeks longs - so we had to get a little creative in planning. So, the first week will be watch. The first half of the sermon will be an interactive children's sermon and will involve all of the "staff" at the church. As we present each character of the story we will mention a verse from the Bible the foretells that character. The second half will be after the children leave for Sunday School. We're really making a push to try and get a few parents involved in the Sunday morning worship service. The kids will light the first Advent candle. Watch.]

Today is a special day because we are starting something new. What’s different about our altar table today? Do you notice anything different?

We have changed to purple to celebrate “advent.” Advent means “the coming” or the arrival. We also have these new candles. What’s written on the candles?
Would you help me light this candle.

[Advent Lighting section]

We light the candle today to remind us that we are watching for Jesus. We celebrate the fact that God told us ahead of time that Jesus would be coming.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. I know you learned the story in Sunday School and at home. But I want you to know that even in the beginning – even from the first time that humans sinned – God had a plan.
So today I want us to look at a few of the other hints that God gave us about Jesus coming.

I’ve asked a few of our friends to introduce a few of the characters in the story.

Erika introduces Mary

David introduces Joseph

Lyubomir introduces shepherds

Michael introduces magi

Who is missing from this scene? Who do we still need?

That’s right – Jesus.

Shannon and Jesse introduce baby Jesus.

Thank you guys for helping us get ready for the coming of the king.

[Kids leave]

But we should look at the rest of this prophecy. Yes, we have read this correctly. This is about the coming Messiah. But, this scripture goes further – it is much deeper. This prophecy has only partially been completed. We are still waiting and working for the completion of this prophecy. Our hearts and lives must work toward peace.

Our gospel lesson for today speaks about the end times. Although thousands have tried to make predictions about when Jesus will return – the scriptures are quite clear that we don’t have a clue. The Jewish scholars had combed the Bible for hints at what the Messiah’s coming would look like. They thought that they understood. They assumed that a great military leader would come. This great military leader would guide them in battle.

But, as we know now, they didn’t get the great military leader they expected. They got a baby in a manger. Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah they had waited for, was a simple carpenter and the son of God and he lived his whole life with the end pursuit of a painful death for the forgiveness of our sins. After hundreds and thousands of years of hearing and reading the prophecies of the coming Messiah – the Rabbis were quite certain they knew exactly what his coming would look like.

They were wrong. They had misunderstood.

In this season of advent we prepare for the coming Messiah. We watch the horizon for signs that Christmas is around the corner. As trees begin to pop up in store windows and decorations go on sale at Arsen, we watch for signs that God is still present in our lives. We prepare our hearts for the truth that God who was willing to come to earth in the form of a little baby is just as willing to come into our hearts. We watch the skies – knowing that we don’t know when the rest of the prophecy will be fulfilled. We watch our hearts and make sure that we are prepared for the coming of the King.

As a church we gather together each week and we celebrate the coming Messiah. We light one more candle each week to remind us that we are getting closer to Christmas. But it’s more than that. These candles help remind us that we are getting closer to the day when Christ will return for his people. We don’t know the day or the hour. But we live with these themes – we live every day to make our hearts and minds more ready for the day that Christ will come.

The Pharisees and Rabbis had studied the law and they missed the point. The prophecies about the coming Messiah were not given as a timeline or a blueprint. They were given to prepare the hearts of the Jewish people.

As we light each of these candles – as we get closer to Christmas – may these words be themes for our lives. May we seek to live in Hope, peace, joy, and Love. May we live together. May we repent of our sins.

May we watch the skies for the coming King, and may we watch our hearts that we are more ready every day.
Watch.

2010-11-18T02:05:00.000-08:00

I think the thing that scares me most is that "Christian" and "American" have become synonyms.

If you look at the economic policies of Jesus and the lives of most Americans you will quickly find the disconnect.

In small group we are studying the passage of the rich young ruler. The story is familiar and easily brushed aside. "Jesus doesn't really mean that we have to go and sell all of our possessions and give to the poor." We rationalize these verses away. We ignore this teaching because it is too much. It is overwhelming.

I believe that perhaps we should take theses verses more literally than we do. Or, at least we should stop pretending that we take the Bible at face value if we want to ignore these passages.

You can't claim to take the Bible literally and then dump these verses into the gutter.

Your retirement account is the forbidden fruit.

When we decide that these verses can't really be true - we make the decision that the plan God has for us (and our finances) is insufficient and that we can do better.

Your lake house is sin.

2010-11-14T14:17:00.001-08:00

I'm stopped on busy sidewalks at least once a week by a stranger. In hushed, always garbled, words he, always he, asks a question. This same cruel one-act performed in theatre after theatre in Russia. For the longest time I had no idea what the question was. My proper response was that I did not speak Russian, and I used that response long after it ceased to be true. Apparently I have a certain look about me. It seems that my look says, "I am a smoker and I have extra cigarettes/a light to lend."

Without fail I'm stopped by this question. I generally don't even listen to strangers - I just respond that I don't smoke. Perhaps the man asking for help with his income taxes is a little confused over my insistence that I simply do not smoke.

I've always felt that I look wildly out of place in this country. Certainly not in the same way as when I lived in Korea. Here in Ukraine very few men orbit their families to intercept any attack I might have planned - as was semi-common in Korea. But, people notice my presence.

At restaurants they apologetically slip me an English menu. At sporting events I clearly don't know either team. In elevator (I only use one elevator in this country) I must say "8th, please" and while I don't hear the mistake - there's apparently a doozy - everyone wheels around to stare at me. And on buses, they always finger me for a foreigner on the buses.

On buses I give exact change; still the driver wants to engage in conversation and ensure that I only want one ticket. In stores, after I fumble my way through a shopping list and stutter twice trying to remember how to say cherry before settling for peach which I can say quite fluently; the teller always expects exact change. She is often willing to fight me over this. "Oh, do you have 70 kopecks? Or one bill?"

Now - I'm the kind of person who picks his battles. If I were the teller, I certainly wouldn't fight a non-native speaker over a few coins. I don't fight for most things, really. Having to do everything in a foreign language really takes the bark out of me. When buses decide that my stop isn't good enough, I just ride to the next stop and get off there. When I don't get the meal I ordered, I just thank God that it's not squid anymore - as was always the case in Korea - and eat my meal.

Perhaps my clothes make me look less like a foreigner and more like a homeless man. Perhaps my jeans and sneaker combination doesn't say "American Pie" any more than it says "Dumpster Diver." My coat and scarf apparently announce that I am an odd breed of Ukrainian: I am the type that smokes and has enough money to carry several extra packs with him at all times.

"Brother, can you spare a cig?"

Conversation

2010-11-05T06:50:00.000-07:00

I still feel quite strongly that Mara should write a play. She's my theatre critic friend from Riga, Latvia. She's immensely talented, and I can't help but feel that one of her plays will take the world by storm.

We had quite a long conversation once in which I encouraged her to write a play. She said that she felt it was very difficult. "Writing a play is like starting a conversation with a stranger. Except there are 150 strangers and only one conversation."

See! With lines like these in ordinary speech (in her second language!) don't you just long for opening night?

I feel that Mara hit the nail on the head when it comes to all forms of writing. Whether writing a book, a play, a sermon, or a blogpost; the point is to start a conversation with strangers."

I'm genuinely terrified of this prospect. Once I had to stand outside and pass out flyers for an English club I was starting. I was by myself, and I might as well have been dressed in only my underwear. I studdered and stammered. I blushed with every word. I passed out almost one hundred flyers. I started zero conversations and zero people came to the English club.

I envy people who can sit down next to a stranger and start a conversation. My roomate seems to have a date with a different girl every night. He has always met her "on the bus." Now, generally speaking, when I ride the bus I just hold on for dear life and try not to miss my stop or die. I don't really know how he has the time or the cognitive ability to meet new people on any bus here.

I feel that writers must be the most self-absorbed people in the world. I mean, even now I'm typing up my thoughts on writing and I expect people to read it. How selfish is that? I expect people to gloss over the typing and punctuation errors and to find meaning in the words I write. I get disappointed when I realize that someone hasn't been reading my blog who I think should be! How silly is that?

Maybe writing is easier because you don't have to deal with the immediate feedback of the stranger's facial expressions. Maybe that makes it harder.

So, I hope that if we met on a bench or in a crowded city-bus that you wouldn't judge me for my words or think me selfish and vain for feeling that my interuption would be more interesting than your own thoughts.

Share.

2010-11-04T00:14:00.000-07:00

This is the third and final sermon in a three part sermon series [They have seen a great light...] I look forward to preaching this sermon.

Sermon Acts 8:25-40

When I first began to read the Bible my usual method was to throw open the Bible to a random page and to begin reading. My first understanding of God was through the life of Esther. The first thing I learned as a nine year old Bible reader is that God calls us to do scary things to protect His people.

Today's Bible story was also one of the first few stories I read from the Bible. This is an appropriate story because it seems that the Ethiopian eunuch had also opened the Bible at random; this is a bad beginner story for a nine year old because I didn't know what a eunuch was. In fact, I read this story dozens of times before finding out what a eunuch was.

Ethiopia was ruled by a very beautiful queen. Candace was known throughout the world for her beauty, grace, and political savvy. Those who wanted Candace in power wanted to make sure that no one got frisky with the queen. The men who were appointed to her cabinet were castrated to ensure that no hanky panky could happen.

In Europe this still occured 150 years ago. Young boys with beautiful singing voices became castratos through surgery so that they could keep their beautiful child-like voices forever.

When people met the Ethiopian official it was immediately obvious that something was wrong.

Now, this government official was different than the politicians we know. I mean, he probably stole a lot of money from the people - because he was very wealthy. No, he was different because he was searching for something more. He was't happy with the tribal gods and the religion of his people. Through his economic work he had encountered Jews and liked the things they believed. He was wealthy and invested time and money in understanding their religion.

He was known as a "God fearer.". He wasn't a Jew, but he knew, and understood the Jewish religion and had a great respect for their God. So he made the long journey to Jerusalem to learn more about this God.

Well, it turns out that this was a huge mistake. After months of traveling he arrives at the Temple and is swiftly turned away.

Eunuchs aren't allowed in the temple! They're freaks!

He is humiliated and rejected, but still questioning. He buys very pricey scrolls and commits to studying the scriptures.

And on his way home he crosses paths with Phillip. This Jewish follower of Jesus is willing to sit up in the chariot with the Eunuch. The man shares his frustrations and cares with Phillip and throws open the scripture scrolls. He points to his new life verse - the verse that sums up why he isn't allowed in the temple - the place where Isaiah describes him.

But Phillip sees it differently and immediately begins sharing with him whom this verse is REALLY about.

Most of us will never have a burning bush moment. We will not be carried to heaven in a chariot of fire. We will probably not see Jesus in all of His glory, lighting up the night. No. Our lives will most likely be much more like that of the Ethiopian official. Rejected, alone, not good enough for the cool crowd - we will find God on a dusty road with only a puddle for our baptism. But don't be confused: this story is still on topic. This is a story of incredible light. The darkness of simply not being good enough is lifted when Jesus Christ enters his life. He had been refused even admittance to the temple, but Jesus wanted HIM to be the temple. God wanted to live in the broken, desecrated body of a second class citizen.

This shell of a man - when filled up with the light of the risen Christ - was able to convert an entire nation! This is a story of a great light indeed!

This is a story of "ALL." The Jewish faith had many rules and regulations about who could worship and where people could worship and who was fit to know God and how that person could know God. With the death and resurrection of Jesus, we find ourselves in a situation of ALL. All may worship God, anywhere they wish. All may know God.

Because, if anyone would be excluded from anything it would be this man. He was black, and a eunuch - a foreigner in every sense of the word. The Hebrew scriptures were quite clear that he could not worship God in the temple. He wasn't welcome.

With Jesus Christ, that changed. Absolutely.

Sometimes we forget the lesson of all. I want you to look around for a second at the other Pilgrims in this room. I want you to look at yourself and then look at those around you. I want you to notice how much we all look alike. We all share a skin color, a country, and a language.

35% of people in Ukraine smoke cigarettes. When you look at people our age, the number is much higher. Ukraine is ranked third in the world for the most cigarettes sold per person. But look around this room. Do any of us smoke cigarettes? If you do, you're doing a good job hiding it from Shannon! In a country where half of the young people smoke cigarettes - half of the people in this room should be smokers or former smokers.

We are only comfortable with other people who look, act, and speak like us. And this is wrong. This is a terrible thing. We have fallen into the trap that the Jewish pharisees had built. We have forgotten the lesson of All.

Every day we see and interact with people from other countries and cultures. We have medical students from Africa - many of whom are Christians and would LOVE to join a community of other Christ followers who speak some English. We have Korean students, 60% of whom are devout Christians and most of them need to understand that Catholics and Protestants can work together.

We see people every day who have tattoos and piercings, strange hair or odd make-up. We encounter goths, and emos, and gays, and punks, and we walk beside hundreds of young people who don't know that God loves them. Every day you sit in classes with people who feel that no one loves them.

We must celebrate the lesson of all. All are welcome here. We must never be afraid to welcome the stranger, the lost, the hurting into this space. We must have the courage to share the good news of Jesus Christ with people who look nothing like us.

If you're scared, take David or Shannon or me along with you. We won't talk for you - but we will stand beside you and we will be brave with you.

With Moses we spoke of the great light of the Burning Bush. With Jesus we spoke of the transfiguration. But in this story, we don't see a flame or a flashlight. It seems to not fit the theme. But I tell you this day, dear friends, if we are willing to move beyond our circle of friends. If we are willing to share the good news of Jesus Christ with those who are different than us. If we are willing to follow God's leading and share God's good news with this hurting world ; I guarantee to you that the world will see a great light.

They will see a light so great - and it will come from me and you. It will come from God living and working in our hearts and it will go out to all the nations. So that all may see.

They will see a great light.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

2010-11-03T01:11:00.001-07:00

Some thoughts on improving our political process:

1. The standard answer to election pollsters should be, "Sorry, not interested." This way polls would be considered even more inaccurate and people would pay less attention to them.

2. Election night exit polling should be outlawed. Maybe if they actually counted the votes before calling a winner people would feel more like their vote was actually counted.

3. Every embassy on foreign soil should be a polling station. You could easily count all of the votes and e-mail the figures to each state by election night.

4. For every dollar spent on a campaign, politicians should be encouraged to give a dollar to charity (and simply frowned upon for not doing so). For instance, maybe the world would be a better place if Meg Whitman had spent 70 million on her campaign and given 70 million to a charity. She could have purchased 7 million bed-nets to help end malaria. To put that into perspective, almost every person in Rwanda could be sleeping under a Malaria stifling bed-net right now and avoiding the leading cause of death in their country if just half of her personal contribution to the campaign had gone to that charity.

5. Reform campaign finance laws to only allow a small window for fundraising. Give politicians (and special interest groups) one month out of every year to make their fundraising pitches - and give the public plenty of time after that fundraising month to absorb the news of who is funding whom.

Creativity

2010-11-02T13:22:00.000-07:00

I think that creative is the word of the day.

This period of my life seems to be filled with highly creative people.

I live with 3 Ukrainian artists. We all have permission to just create as we feel led.

A lot of our guests leave a traditional gift of a bottle of vodka. Since none of us really feel like drinking hard liquor on any regular basis I began filling bottles of vodka with fruits. Vodka preserves anything forever, and will absorb the taste slowly over a couple of weeks.

I have a bottles of pear, apple, and raspberry flavored vodka sitting on the top shelf in the kitchen. While I was on vacation another addition made it's way up to the shelf. A cigarette stub flavored vodka. Soon small pebble vodka joined the others.

One of our walls is covered in newspapers. It felt like the right thing to do. In the same way that if felt right to have an impromptu photo session one night. We host about a dozen people each week. All for free. It's for the experience, the insight, the education, (and for my hopelessly romantic roommate it's also for the possibility of love) and the atmosphere. Having a dozen different voices weigh in on matters great and small creates an aroma or congeniality that can't be compared.

And tonight, after our first English Club open mic night, I sat in the main room of the Youth to Jesus student center and I was overwhelmed by the amount of creativity that surrounds me.

I don't attract the most serious students. They can pay big money and have a teacher list grammar rules at them for an hour. I attract an odd subset of Ukrainians. 25-30 students show up each week. They are artsy and fun - lively and vivacious. They want to learn English, but I think that more than that they crave some type of community.

The students played their instruments in every corner of the great room. Their almost prodigious talent was a little bit overwhelming. Fingers flew on the keys of the piano and hands strummed guitars. A boy picked up the bow of a violin for the first time and had a good number of notes under his belt in a few minutes. The flautist and the pianist began arranging duets.

I'm starting to wonder how I can capture this energy and use it for good.

I guess I need to get a little creative.

Jesse

2010-11-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

Jesse and his "Uncle" Michael. He's a cow, I'm a fencer. What - your farm doesn't have fencers?

Change.

2010-11-01T01:37:00.000-07:00

Last week we talked about seeing and understanding God. This week we are going to talk about the change that God shows in our lives.

My friend Lena grew up in a communist home. There was no mention of religion at home as her parents were party members. Her grandmother was a Christian, but she was a very strict and severe woman. Once Lena stole an egg before Easter and her grandmother told her that God would cut off her ear for her sin. Lena was terrified of this God - and she slept with her hand over her ear even until she was an adult. When she was a teenager her grandfather told her a story about a warrior.

A long time ago, a strong Ukrainian warrior was leading his people; his soldiers and their wives and children. He was leading a group of several thousand people through a very thick forest to a village where they would be safe. They had been traveling for many days and all of their food, water, and torches were gone. They had nothing left to light and it was getting dark. The warrior knew that they were very close to the new village where he was taking his people. But, after a very long journey the people were losing confidence in their leader. It grew dark in the forest. The forest grew wild with strange noises and the people became terrified.

They were in the dark. They were scared. And they didn't know if they wanted to keep following the warrior.

But this warrior loved his people very much. He knew that once they got to the new village they would be safe forever. So the warrior took one last heroic breath and dug his hand into his chest. He ripped out his heart and he lit it on fire. He held it up as a final torch for his people. He walked with his people the final steps into their new village. And as the people began to celebrate the arrival of their new home the brave warrior collapsed and died.

Lena decided that if she ever encountered such a warrior she would follow him anywhere. As an adult she began to read the Bible. As she read the story of Jesus she couldn't stop thinking about this story. She realized that she had found the great warrior. She understood that the God who cuts off the ears of thieving children wasn't real ... but that the God who is willing to die for his people - that God is real.

She had finally seen God for who he really was. She had seen the transfiguration.

[Read Matthew 17:1-8]

This is a story of change.

Jesus goes up on the mountain, just like any other day and takes a few of his disciples with him.

And on the mountain that day they saw Jesus Christ for who he really is. They saw the glory of God surround him. We typically think that on that mountain Jesus transformed from simple old Jesus of Nazareth into something much greater. But this is a wrong understanding. Jesus had always been this way. Jesus had always glowed with the glory of God. Jesus had always been the great warrior with his heart on fire. On the mountain that day, with Moses and Elijah, the disciples saw Jesus for who he really was.

The real transfiguration took place 30 years before in a simple stable in Bethlehem. Humanity was changed forever when a tiny baby was born in a manger. At the transfiguration the disciples finally see the truth - that the baby born in Bethlehem was God.

Sometimes people need to see a story of change. They need to see OUR story of change.

The transfiguration is a model for us. Sometimes people need to see that God really lives inside of us.

The world needs to see a transfiguration - and they need to see it from us.

People need to see a radical change. So how do we show people the change that God has accomplished in our lives?

I'm going to offer two ideas to show the transformation in your heart.

Forgive those who have hurt you.
Ask forgiveness of those who have hurt you.

When we forgive others, people see the radical transformation God has accomplished in our lives. When we apologize to others for the times we have hurt them people will see that our lives are changed.

One of my personal heroes is Corrie ten Boom. Corrie was a very ordinary dutch citizen. While she had been in love many times, she never married and in her forties she was considered an old maid. Her family was deeply religious and in the 1930s they had opened their house to many poor people who needed a warm meal. When Holland was captured by the Nazis, Jews began disappearing. Soon Corrie's family was wrapped up in the resistance movement. They were hiding Jews in their house and helping Jewish families escape to other countries.

One night the Nazi's caught on to their plan and showed up to search their house. Corrie in her forties, her sister Betsie, also single and in her forties, and their father - and old man in his 70s - were arrested for hiding Jews.

When the guards processed them, they looked at the father and one guard said, "You're an old man. If we let you go home, you'll behave yourself - won't you?" To which Mr. ten Boom said, "If you let me go today, I will open my home to anyone who needs it tomorrow." He died in prison a few days later.

Over the next few months Corrie and her sister endured unimaginable horror. They were shipped from one concentration camp to another. Ravensbruck was the worst of all. And one guard there was worse than any other guard. One time Betsie fell over while working in the fields. This despicable guard raised his whip and slashed a fifty year old woman across the face.

Betsie died shortly after.

Corrie survived to the end of the war. She decided that she should tell her story. She was a strong Christian and she wanted people to know that God was with her and her family - even in the darkness of the concentration camps. She preached a message of forgiveness. She showed radical love.

One day after she finished up a sermon on forgiveness a man approached her. He said, "The forgiveness of God is a truly wonderful thing." She looked into his eyes and instantly recognized the SS guard who had been feared most at Ravensbruck. She immediately knew that it was the man who had slashed Betsie's face. She shook his hand - and in her heart she forgave him - and said, "Yes. It truly is wonderful."

The world needs to see a transfiguration. They need to see that God lives within us.

Now, the point of this story is the forgiveness. Don't think for a minute that your forgiveness won't be as powerful just because you haven't faced major obstacles like Corrie ten Boom. When you forgive others and ask for their forgiveness it will be a powerful moment for you and for them.

It doesn't have to be a huge transgression for forgiveness to be powerful. It's still hard to forgive roomates who eat our food and friends who leave us out of their plans. Forgiving them is equally powerful.

A few weeks ago the students of L'viv protested in the streets. Now David and Shannon and I all agreed that if we had an opportunity that we would join you in protest. We support you and agree that some of the new policies are unfair to students. So, I found myself marching in the streets with Ukrainian University students.

We marched through the streets to protest unfair policy. We chanted "Glory to Ukraine" and "Glory to the heroes." And I was on board. Then a voice from the back shouted out "death to our enemies."

"Death to our enemies."

What if we marched through the streets chanting, "Forgiveness to our enemies."?

"Love to our enemies."

If you want to see a transformation - real change in this world - then take to the streets. Let your enemies know that they are forgiven. Ask for their forgiveness - but don't expect or demand it.

This might be the hardest thing you'll ever do. But, it will be worth more than you can ever imagine.

We take as our example Jesus - who showed taht he was fully God - and yet willingly died for our sins ... and forgave those who killed him. Look to Corrie ten Boom who forgave the cruelest man in a cruel system that killed her family. Look into your heart and search out the forgiveness that you need to share and ask for.

If you look deep within yourself - you'll find that God is there.

And God is ready to show the world a transfiguration.

And God is ready to use you to do it.

During our prayer time - if there is someone in this room who has hurt you, or whom you have hurt - I urge you to reach out to him or her and pray together. Forgive one another.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

I'm pretty sure you're not a Nazi.

2010-10-31T05:43:00.000-07:00

I really wish I had been in D.C.

Photos of my life

2010-10-28T14:09:00.000-07:00

Sadly, we're past this weather now. This is the park in front of the University. It's beautiful and very peaceful.

This is me preaching the sermon where I talked about flashlight tag. The last few minutes were lit by only this flashlight.

Same sermon, different part. I really love this picture for a number of reasons.

2010-10-22T10:34:00.000-07:00

The hale slaps against the window pane, and my heart feels the pain as it hails the final days on autumn.

I´m never really certain how to spell things. Homonyms make my head go a little dizzy; knowing that a roomful of eager English students (some of whom are named Igor) are depending upon my loose knowledge of the English language makes my heart thud a little bit louder.

I hate self-identifying as an "English teacher." The words roll off my tongue like a Tianimen square tank. Sometimes, however, they are a bit easier on the palate than explaining my status as a volunteer, religious-worker, not a Mormon, interconfessional -you know all denominations (not Jews), and eventually winding back to ... I´m an English Teacher. It´s really a terrible thing for the teacher to be the least passionate one in the room. I love my students, I enjoy the way I´ve structured the classes, but I just don´t care for the subject.

There´s something that smacks of colonialism in using English as outreach. I mean, we´re not forcing English on anyone; just helping people who would like to know it better to improve their jobs or their lives. But, still, somewhere deep inside I have a sense that 50-year old me will be discontent with the actions of 20-year old me.

When I sat in classes I could easily define mission, missions, and missionaries. Now, I´m not so certain. I live overseas. I plant churches. I travel on crowded busses and have great stories that involve food you wouldn´t touch. But, really, which of those things makes me a missionary?

The girl with an impossibly Latvian name (Gida, Gudi, Gita, Guta ... I´m a little hazy on the details) asks me what separates the United Methodist church from other denominations. After explaining the historicity of my beloved denomination she repeats her question. I love the United Methodist church, but explaining that bit of trivia would probably not have answered her question either.

I would like to explain that we have Open hearts, Open minds, and Open doors - but I´m afraid that she might have had contact with one and would know that this simply isn´t true (that very day, I tried to visit a United Methodist church in Riga and it certainly didn´t have open doors!).

I tried to explain our social justice ministries - but I know that my local United Methodist church does none of those things. I wish I could have explained our obvious political stances and the good we had done in government; but I could think of no examples. Even on cut-and-dry issues we are not of one mind.

I didn´t give a convincing answer to that girl. At 3 O´clock that morning I woke up with the realization that I´m what´s special about the United Methodist church.

We are no greater than our people. We serve and make disciples no more effectively than our people. Like zebras, we can run no faster than the slowest member of our herd. The heart of our denomination is only as open as the hearts of the 11 million United Methodists around the world. The same for our minds and the same for the doors of the thousands of United Methodist churches.

We need a revival. We need to be reminded why we are United Methodists. We need to earn the lofty slogans we slap on our buildings.

And as the hale melts away, I am reminded that winter will be over soon enough. My English classes will create good memories and might help to make a few new disciples. Perhaps a few of those disciples will go on to become United Methodists and maybe a few of them will rise above the din and clatter and will lead revival.

Perhaps they will know how to answer the questions that come their way better than I. Perhaps people won´t even need to ask such questions.

See.

2010-10-13T22:51:00.000-07:00

[This is my sermon for Thursday October 28th. At the end, the students will be given time to mull around the room and look at questions posted on the walls (and floors and ceilings?) and to wrestle with the burning bush God has placed in their hearts.]

Harriet Tubman was born into slavery. As a little girl she was allowed to cook and clean inside the house and even to play with the young daughter of the couple who owned her. But all of her family worked out in the field. When she was a teenager, she was sent to a store to buy some groceries. Another slave tried to steal something, and the shopkeeper picked up the heaviest item he could find and threw it at him. He missed, and hit Harriet in the head.

She was only a slave, so they didn't bother with medical treatment. They sent her home and let her rest for two days before forcing her back to work.

That head injury saved her life.

After the trauma, she began to have visions and to hear the voice of God. Now, some might say she was crazy - but the things God was saying to her were right. They were godly things to say. She began to follow God and tried to serve God with all of her life.

She escaped to freedom as a young adult. But God kept talking to her, and urged her to return to save others. She made more than a dozen trips and rescued more than 70 people. She risked her life on a daily basis to save her people from slavery. She began fighting publicly for better laws - and eventually saw all of her people freed from slavery. For this she became known as "Moses."

When we think of Moses we immediately think of the Godly man who parted the red sea and led the Israelites to safety. We tend to see the story of Moses as a nice children's book. We see the pretty picture of Moses floating in a cute basket, we see Moses as a young man in Pharoah's house and then out on his own in the desert where he sees a burning bush. But this is not a children's story. In order to understand that we need to view his story in some context.

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth. He created Adam and Eve and he was with them. He spoke to them and shared life with them; and this was very normal for Adam and Eve. They knew the God who had created them - and they knew him as a friend, a father, and a confidant.

But within only a few generations God was a distant concept. God was still active in the lives of His people, But His people weren't so sure. They were slaves in a foreign land and Pharaoh was tired of having more Jewish people than egyptians in his city. So Pharaoh ordered that every male Jewish child be killed.

And it is out of this situation that we find the story of Moses. Moses is hid in a basket and is found by Pharaoh's daughter. Moses was put in the basket because a probable death is better than a certain death. After being found by Pharoah's daughter he is raised as a spoiled brat in the ruling family of Egypt. While his birth mother is involved in his life, he is raised in a culturally and religiosly Egyptian setting. Moses believed in the sun god and the moon god who fought for control and in Amun-Ra and Anubis. Moses did not know or believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. If Moses was religious his allegiance was to Ibis and not to Yahwe.

Moses was not in the desert because he needed a change of scenery. Moses was in the desert because he was a fugitive. He murdered an Egyptian. He didn't leave out of a sense of shame or a guilty conscience - he left because he was scared of getting caught. He married a woman of a different religion and probably never told her about his sordid past.

We're doing a sermon on dating later this year and I'll give you a preview - Girls, If your boyfriend is of a different religion or has ever killed someone you should probably stop dating him. Guys, if you're dating your girlfriend to move past that one time you killed a guy - you should probably have a nice long talk with David.

Apparently Zipporah missed that week of Pilgrims. Moses is in the desert that day for a number of reasons.

And God appears in a burning bush. Moses doesn't see God at first. Moses sees a small brush fire - then he notices that the bush is not being consumed; then he hears the voice of God.

This is an area of the Bible that isn't very clear. No one has ever seen God. Adam and Eve spoke with God all the time. Different people have interacted with "an angel of the Lord," but in this moment - in this burning bush; God shows up. God says, "Hey, it's me. I created you. I love you. I have a plan for you."

Now, God does not appear to a wanted fugitive in the desert in the form of a burning bush to ask for a cup of sugar or a light for his cigarette. God shows up with big plans and a big vision for this murderer turned shepherd.

Go back and change the world.

Do you know what really bugs me about this story?

Moses didn't deserve a burning bush. Moses wasn't even a good person, let alone a great follower of God. I've been a practicing Christian for more than a decade and I've never seen a burning bush. Billy Graham never saw a burning bush, Mother Teresa, the Pope, and David Goran have never seen burning bushes. But this murderer from a different religion was somehow worthy of a burning bush?

Where's my burning bush? Where's my instantly obvious proof that God is real and wants to be present in my life?

I really struggle with this idea. Honestly.

I'm human - and because I'm human I want proof that the things I believe are real. I want to know that God is real and that God has a plan for my life.

And this is the desire that burns in all of us. We want to know if God is real. We want to know if God really loves us; if God really has a plan for us. This is the burning bush that God has placed in our lives. When you are standing in the wilderness - you better believe that God has a burning bush for you. Look into your heart and know that the big questions are a gift from God.

"Is God real?"
"Do I need to go to church?"
Is Jesus worth the effort?"
"Why do bad things happen to good people?"

Some people believe that these big questions are a sign of doubt and should be avoided. I believe the opposite. I believe that these questions are the burning bush that God has put in our lives. The big questions are big for a reason. Our God is big; and our God has given us these questions.

Everyone has this deep desire to know God. We want to see God at work in our lives. I want you to know that these big questions we face are proof that God is real and loves us.

This week I want us to show special attention to these big questions. I want us to approach the burning bush, to take off our shoes in awe of the God who gave us hearts and minds that question, and to focus on the questions we have about God.

What would have happened if Moses had seen the burning bush, and then ran and hid because it was scary? Perhaps Moses was the 20th or 30th person that God had appeared to in this way - but he was the only one brave enough to approach. If we want to see God, we must have the courage to approach God and to wrestle with the big questions he has placed in our hearts.

Around the room you will find some of these big questions posted. I want you to spend this prayer time - and hopefully some time during this week - thinking and praying about these questions. I want you to step right up to the burning bush and to ask God these questions. I want you to wrestle in your heart with these questions.

And next week we are going to talk about what seeing those answers will look like.

Thank You

2010-10-12T05:50:00.000-07:00

Luke 17:11-19 (New International Version)
Ten Healed of Leprosy
Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, "Jesus, Master, have pity on us!"
When he saw them, he said, "Go, show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were cleansed.
One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.
Jesus asked, "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" Then he said to him, "Rise and go; your faith has made you well."

“Thank you” is a funny phrase. When we enter a new culture it’s one of the first words we try to memorize. In my home culture we say “Thank You” all the time. Back home I probably say “Thank You” 20 to 30 times a day. When I was a teenager we had an exchange student from Russia. We were a little surprised at how little he said “Thank You.” I mean, we were providing EVERYTHING for him, and yet if he managed to get out two or three “thank you-s” in a day it was a positive one. Then one day we were traveling together on a toll road. We pulled up to the window and handed the woman our money and dad said, “Thank you.” And we pulled away. Our Russian exchange student looked at me like my family was a tribe of Neanderthals that somehow survived extinction. With much pent up frustration he asked, “Why do you say ‘Thank You’ so much? Why do you say ‘Thank You’ to people who take your money?”

Now, we really didn’t have a good explanation. “Because that’s just what you’re supposed to do…?” Maybe we say “Thank You” too much in American culture? Maybe it’s lost its meaning? We thank people for taking our money. We thank people for doing their job – we’re even required to tip 10-15% if the service was “standard.” We cringe as celebrities start off acceptance speeches by thanking God and then continue with a string of expletives. We thank God for our daily bread at least 3 times a day – and always more pronouncedly when done in public! while we eat more than we should and others around the world go hungry. Comedies about nerds always include the line, “Thank you for not hitting me” at least once. Alfred Hitchcock retains the most famous and precise Oscar acceptance speech uttering just two words before re-taking his seat – “Thank you.”

So, Thank you for allowing me to preach this sermon this Thursday. Thank you for showing up. Thank you to everyone who participated in Pilgrims tonight. Thank you for not falling asleep yet. Thank you.

Perhaps this is one reason that people from my cultural background find this story a little strange. Why wouldn’t the other nine come back to say Thank you?

These people lived in forced community. Lepers were people with instantly obvious medical conditions. All that the “normal” people around them knew was that THEY didn’t want Leprosy and that it was highly contagious. Lepers were forced to announce their presence when entering a room – as if their scarred faces and missing limbs weren’t enough of an introduction.
Leprosy attacks nerve endings. People with Hansen’s disease lose feeling in their extremities. Leprosy does not cause limbs to fall off, but cuts and scrapes left untreated easily become infected. In poorer areas of the world, where treatment is less available, rats are a common cause of missing limbs. People with feeling in their hands and feet wake up when a rat begins to bite – people without feeling don’t have that luxury.

Although Leprosy has the reputation of being highly contagious, 95% of people in the world are naturally immune. To catch the disease a person would need regular contact – something like using the same sheets – to catch the disease. For those of us in modern times the conditions are even better.
A person is no longer contagious after 2 weeks of treatment and if caught early enough and treated well, Hansen’s disease is curable.

When I was in India the mission team I was on visited a leper colony. There are still over a thousand leper colonies in India. Now, being that our team was comprised of high school and college students and none of us had any medical training – I imagine we were not very helpful to the people we visited in any medical sense of the word. In all probability – our visit was much better for us than for the people we were visiting. I pray that our presence brightened their day at least a little. But, the visit changed our lives. Still to this day when I talk to other team members we bring up the leper colony.

In Jesus’ day the Lepers were required to live outside of the city. As Jesus entered the village, 10 men came toward him – the scripture is clear that they “kept their distance” and yelled toward Jesus asking him to cure them.

I wonder, how often did they cry out for a cure? Was this a common occurrence? Did they shout at every rabbi that walked by? Every magician? Every person? Was this a first time event? Most of these men were Jewish and they knew the law well. At least they knew the law as it pertained to them.

They knew what they were allowed to do and what they were not allowed to do. They knew the story of Naaman and his cleansing of leprosy. And most importantly they knew what they were supposed to do in case they were ever healed. They were to go to the priest and present themselves and wait for his stamp of approval. At that point they would be clean and they could go home. They could re-enter society. They dreamed of this day. They prayed over these verses.

As Jesus passed they called out to be cleansed. And Jesus tells these men to go to the Priest. This is the day they have been waiting for. They turn and run and along the way they are made well. For nine of these men, “being healed” would happen when the priest said that they had been healed. In a few short moments they would be “officially healed” by the priest and they could return to their families. For the Samaritan, when he saw that his scars were gone, that his limbs had re-grown, and that he had feeling in his feet he knew that he had been healed. He didn’t need a priest to tell him what he felt in his feet.

He knew that the priests in the temple had not been able – or willing – to cure him; so why should he go to them for their declaration. Jesus, this Jesus who had passed by like so many others before, was able to heal – and the Samaritan turned back and ran to Jesus. He fell on the ground in front of Jesus and thanked him from the very bottom of his heart. For truly, this was the Priest to whom he needed to show himself. His tears and his voice echoed out for the whole village to see – Thank You.

In the Leper colony I visited, the people had terrible scars, missing fingers, awful infections and the warmest hearts I have ever met. These people, who had every reason to curse the gods and turn their hearts to stone, were warm and welcoming. They smiled with crooked lips and held our hands in their stumps. They blessed us. When we would come into their huts they would quickly unscrew the light bulb, not noticing that the hot light bulb burned their hands, and replaced it with a light bulb of higher wattage so that we could see better inside their homes. They invited us to join them for worship, and it was one of the most inspiring services I have ever attended.

That day in the Leper colony I learned to give thanks to God for all things at all times. In the midst of my darkest days I need only to think of that little chapel in the leper colony and their grateful hearts and I am reminded to thank God in all circumstances.

This story continues with Jesus asking an odd question. Jesus asks this foreigner where the other 9 are. This question is bizarre because the other 9 have done EXACTLY what Jesus has asked. This tenth, he’s the one that broke the rules. Shouldn’t Jesus be yelling at him? Shouldn’t he get his leprosy back for not following directions?

Now, the story doesn’t say – but we assume that the other nine go to the Priest and are pronounced clean. We assume that they, even though they didn’t thank Jesus, return home. We believe that they hugged their wives and tucked their children into bed that night.
But this tenth … this tenth … not only was he healed, not only did he get to return to his family as a whole man; but he also had the blessing of having thanked Him who made him clean. He had listened intently to the words of Jesus and decided that the only Priest he needed to see was the One who healed the unclean.

We get dragged down with words so easily. Paul advises Timothy not to get stuck in times of “wrangling with words.” The other nine lepers were consumed by the words of the law that they missed the point. The priest and his declaration of cleanliness didn’t HEAL the lepers – but they believed with all of their hearts that they weren’t really healed until the priest said so.

We get so caught up in the words, in our traditions, in our own way of doing things that we forget the point. Like the nine healed lepers who missed the point and headed for the priests who couldn’t heal them – we feel that the words, traditions, and thoughts we are comfortable with are what save us. We forget that only Jesus Christ and Him crucified can save us from our sins. Our works and the expressions of our faith are a beautiful after-thought – they are not saving acts.

Like the nine – we all too often run to these things – that we need them to prove our salvation. When really all we need is a heart like the Samaritan leper. When he had feeling in his feet he knew he was healed. When we have feeling in our hearts – we must know that we are saved. And we must return to Jesus with thankful hearts.

For those in this room who know the goodness of Jesus Christ – I will leave you with a question to think about this week. How do we REALLY say thank you to Jesus? If we come from a culture where “Thank You” doesn’t mean a whole lot; how do we fall before Jesus and thank Him for all that he has done for us?

The Old

2010-10-06T04:33:00.000-07:00

I'm working on a sermon based around two stories found in the Old Testament. Oddly enough, this will be my first Old Testament based sermon.

I've always had a rather tenuous relationship with the Old Book.

My first encounter with picking up a Bible and reading was the book of Esther. It was short and I knew my grandmother wouldn't be happy until I had read the entire book. I read it in one sitting ... probably when I was 6. I made Grandma explain what gallows were - even though I knew. I remember asking Grandma why they killed Haman ... AND HIS FAMILY!!! I had a nightmare that night about the gallows.

When I began to read the scriptures in earnest I was bored stiff throughout most of the Old Testament. There are many begotten and begetters in the first few books. Ultimately, the rules bogged down my mind as they have done to countless people. I didn't see the salvation of the people within the framework of their safety and security as described in the laws. I missed the constant re-direction of God from the prophets. I saw stale rules and long-dead bearded men pontificating snoozily.

In the sermon I'm writing now, I will speak of God as The One who met Moses in the desert in the burning bush. As the God who took Elijah (Elisha? Fact checking comes later!) up in a chariot of fire. And I will ask a lot of questions. Namely, "Where's my burning bush?" "Where's my chariot of fire?"

Sermon L'viv UMC October 3 2010

2010-10-02T10:58:00.000-07:00

I'm preaching in the morning. Maryanna Venger will translate for me. This will be her first time translating a sermon and she's very nervous. Tomorrow will also hold our inaugural children's sermon. No pressure.

Luke 17:5-10
The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!"

The Lord replied, "If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you.

"Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here at once and take your place at the table'?

Would you not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'?

Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded?

So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!'"

Jesus spoke in parables and related the things he said to real life situations. I worked at a Christian summer camp for a while; and the first thing we learned was that children think in concrete ways. Children understand best when they can hold something in their hand.

When we would teach children about the trinity we would use water as an example. We would pass around an ice cube and a glass of water, and we would let the kids put their hands into a mist of steam. Water, ice, and steam are three very different things; but they are all the same thing. It was easy to teach children about the trinity – that God is three in one – using this concrete example.

Jesus used a lot of parables and many examples because almost everyone learns better this way. Very few people learn well by listening to a lecture.

How do we learn to fish? Do we sit in a lecture and take notes? No! We go out fishing and someone shows us how it’s done.

So when the disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith he doesn’t stand at the podium ready to lecture. He reaches down to the weeds growing beside the road and shakes out a few of the tiny seeds. He holds them out in his hands and he shares the good news that if the disciples had only this much faith that they could perform mighty miracles. In Luke it says that a tree will uproot itself and plant itself in the sea at our command. In other tellings of this story Jesus shares that with only this tiny amount of faith, we can move mountains.

Jesus is playing on a familiar tune. He’s already held the mustard seeds out to his disciples to prove a point. The last time he pulled this move, he was telling his disciples that the Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed.

Mustard plants were everywhere in Jesus’ day. They were a weed of the most wicked kind.

Most plants are at least a little difficult to grow. You have to plant them in the right soil, and water them, and make sure they get enough sunlight. I don’t keep any plants in my house because I simply can’t keep them alive. Other plants are just the opposite. Some plants will grow anywhere, anytime, without any help. We call these plants weeds – even when they are really beautiful.

When Jesus held out the mustard seed and said that the Kingdom of God was like THIS, the people understood immediately. Even one tiny seed could grow very large. Not only would the plant be up to 2 meters tall, but it wouldn’t stop growing. It would spread like wildfire and would quickly take over the surrounding area. The roots of the mustard plant are so strong and stubborn that they can bust through brick walls.

If a mustard plant started to grow near your property and you didn’t take care of it when it was small it would surely ruin you when it became bigger.

We have a plant in America that is similar to this. The kudzu plant is really quite pretty. It has a pink or purple flower that is prettier than anything I’ve ever grown. But kudzu grows too quickly, and soon overtakes everything in its path. If you leave a car too close to kudzu for too many days the vines can grow up and into the motor and cause serious damage. The plant can work its way in between bricks and ruin foundations.

When Jesus told those around him that the Kingdom of God was like the mustard seed – they knew what he meant. It was starting small – but it would grow and it would topple governments and change the world. It’s no accident that Jesus uses the same metaphor for our faith as individuals. It starts small – and even in that small dose it’s still unbelievably powerful.

[[I tell you the truth – if you have faith the size of this match, you can tell a house to go up in smoke and it will. In the same way, the Kingdom of God – yes, even this very church meeting in this room – is like this match. Although it is small, it holds great and terrible potential. Even forest fires that consume whole nations can start with a match as small as this.]]

But it doesn’t have to. If I put this match back in the box there will be no fire. Why are these mustard seeds that I hold up still tiny seeds? Because they were never planted.

If you want a seed to grow, you must cover it with a little dirt. If a seed isn’t covered in dirt it will never be more than a little seed. It’s the same with us – with this church. We will always be a small group of believers until we decide that we’re willing to get covered in a little dirt. Until we decide to get our hands dirty, we’re nothing but little seeds waiting to be planted. I believe with all of my heart that God will move mountains – but I think we should bring shovels.

And this is the second point that Jesus makes in His answer. As followers of Jesus Christ, this is our obligation. We have been commanded to get our hands dirty. To serve others. To love when it’s difficult . To tell others the good news of Jesus Christ. We shouldn’t expect a special reward for doing that which is commanded of us. Even if we have small faith – even as small as a mustard seed or this match – our obligation is the same.

I am a person of small faith. I am sometimes filled with doubt. Sometimes when I pray I wonder if God is even listening. My faith is as small as a mustard seed. But I believe with all of my heart that even in my small faith, that God has a huge plan for my life.

Even in your small faith, God has a huge plan for your life.
Even in our small faith, God has a huge plan for this church.

Our faith, our church, and the Kingdom we strive toward are like this little match.

It’s so small – but yet it has so much potential.

Today this church meets in a small room – we are barely more than a small group. But I tell you today that if we will be faithful to the God who has called us – and that if we are ready to get our hands dirty in serving and loving others that we will not be small for long. Right now we are this little seed – will you join me in covering us with dirt and growing to become the huge plant that God wants us to be?

Please pray with me: Amen.

Faith

2010-10-01T14:48:00.000-07:00

I'm confessing once more my small faith. This Sunday I'm preaching on having faith the size of a mustard seed.

It's painful, really; the accusations of perfection and holiness. People assume that because I'm a missionary I hold the corner on religiosity. I'm not very good at this whole "Christian" thing. I'm a poor example by any measure, but stick me up next to Mama T(eresa), Hudson Taylor, or Amy Carmichael and it's almost laughable.

It's hard to explain. I genuinely struggle to find words to convey my meaning. I'm not here because my great faith gave me the courage to get on a plane; I'm here because I'm trying to be faithful - in the big and the small. I try to remember to read my Bible every day (unless I feel that I'm doing it out of obligation, which I feel to be wrong in some way, and then I wait until I long for some word in my life, which seems better to me.)

But I really do believe that small faith has great potential. I don't think that we're supposed to be "all that good" at being Christian. I think it should always be a struggle. Twelve feet of snow. Uphill both ways. The whole nine yards. I think I'm doing something right.

I had a friend be very honest with me once. He told me that either my theology and missionary philosophy are correct and I will be celebrated in history as a great missionary - or I'll be wrong and I might just burn in Hell for it. While I don't see either outcome as even remotely possible (I'm not a relentless self-promoter, and I've got my "get out of hell free card")I appreciate his sentiment.

I'm going to keep living on my small faith. I'm going to continue taking shovels full of dirt until the mountain has been moved. And I'm going to call it a miracle without a hint of irony. I'm going to wipe the sweat off my brow and give thanks to God for having moved the mountain. That's just how I see it.

This I believe

2010-09-28T02:50:00.000-07:00

I believe that religion should make you a better person.

I grew up in a religious home. I wasn't in the same room with a bottle of alcohol until I attended a non-religious wedding in my early teens. I assumed that rules were a big part of our religion. My mother would read our Holy Scriptures each morning while oatmeal cooked on the stovetop. Our kitchen was always very cold, and I remember sitting wrapped in a warm blanket, eating hot oatmeal, and listening to my mother's beautiful voice read words from the Psalms. I assumed that comfort was a big part of our religion.

In the first sermon I remember, our pastor told the story of the only Jewish family in a town. They put a Menorah in their window and someone punished them for this by throwing a brick through their window. The next day, every Christian home on the block had lit a Menorah in their window. I loved this story. I knew deep down in my little heart that my family would have put up a Menorah if we lived on that street.

As my little heart grew, I accepted the religion of my family as my own. For a long time I lived a religious life in order to be religious. I told a girl that she was going to hell, once. I regret those words more than any other I have ever spoken.

My understanding of religion was making me a worse person. I assumed that religion was about rules and my own comfort. As I began to read the words of Jesus more closely I realized that I had misunderstood almost everything. The Christian religion wasn't about rules and it wasn't about my comfort.

Religion has made me a better person. It has taught me to love people - even people who don't look, act, or think like me. Even people who don't make as much money as me. Even people who believe a different religion than me. I'm no longer worried about my own comfort - I would be happier if the homeless kids I work with were to find comfort than if I had it myself.

Religion continues to make me a better person. I still have a lot of room for improvement! In this world of terrorism and Quaran burnings and hate-speeches coming from the mouths of the religious elite; I am reminded every day of my strongest held belief. I am reminded that religion should make you a better person.

What a crummy cross.

2010-09-23T15:53:00.000-07:00

In our "Youth to Jesus" student center, we keep a cross on one of the walls. It's two pieces of old wood that are tied together. I don't know where it came from, or how it came about - but I love it's presence in our space.

About two years ago we had a small explosion in our stairway. We had to replace our large door, and apparently this event signaled a welcome to the community to come and inspect our space and see what we were all about. I've been told that dozens of people streamed through our space. And one comment was consistent. "What a crummy cross." "What kind of church would have a cross like that?" "Couldn't you find a nicer cross to hang up than that one?"

Apparently dipping the thing in gold for the last 2000 years has made a number of people forget that the cross was an execution device of severe cruelty. But I love the idea of the crummy cross.

The headlines blare out more scandalous gossip. It's a familiar song and all the kids have the dance moves down pat. Right-wing Pastor of mega-church is accused of wild, sexual misconduct. I don't know anything about this pastor, and while I assume I would probably stand in opposition to some of his views; I genuinely feel bad for the guy.

Being a spiritual leader is tough. Being a spiritual leader to 30,000+ people is impossible. He might be a good CEO and he might be able to control his image and empire well - but at 30,000 congregants, you are no longer providing spiritual care. One downside powerful people face is the fact that vulnerable people surround them and expect them to show all restraint. The stress and pressure combined with the power make a downfall almost inevitable. What a crummy cross.

Olya and I had just finished our meeting. We closed in prayer and she volunteered to help me exchange some train tickets and purchase new ones at the ticket office. There's a lot of complicated language in such an event and I was thankful for the help. Olya co-leads the language ministry at our center and she's passionate and strong. When we got to the train station I didn't think and I opened my wallet and handed her some money to buy the tickets. I immediately got "the look" from three on-lookers. The "you're a dirty old man" look. Olya wears a bit too much eye make-up and she was wearing heals and I look older than I am and we were speaking English. Everyone who saw me hand her money immediately assumed that they were witnessing a familiar transaction. They assumed that I was giving money to the prostitute I had managed to find in L'viv. What a crummy cross.

Christine O'Donnell doesn't think that people should masturbate. Her logic is debatable, and she really has to reach around for scriptural support - but she genuinely believes it and is willing to put her neck on the line for it. What a crummy cross.

Mother Teresa was filled with doubt. Christopher Hitchens has gone to the Vatican to fight against her canonization. He believes that Mama T was a shameless self-promoter who managed to trick the world into believing in her false piety. I imagine that if she were alive, those accusations would throw her into another bout of depression she was so used to. What a crummy cross.

These are the faces of Christianity. Whether this is how we would like the world to see us is completely not up to us. These are people whom God has forgiven and whom God loves uncontrollably. These are people whom others identify as followers of Christ.

In the end, we must remember that the cross was not shiny and perfect - the cross was ugly and scarred and disgusting. The cross was only made beautiful through the resurrection. Our lives are ugly and scarred and disgusting. Even our Christian lives. Even our forgiven lives. They can only be made beautiful through the resurrection.

Amen.

I look forward to this ...

2010-09-22T11:24:00.001-07:00

I am already writing a story or theological treatise to keep up with the next phase of technology.

Sermon St. Luke's UMC Kyiv.

2010-09-22T04:50:00.000-07:00

I'm preaching this Sunday at St. Luke's UMC in Kyiv. This was a very difficult sermon to write. The lectionary scripture for the week tells the story of the rich man and Lazarus. It deals with socio-economic issues - and the church in Kyiv is comprised of people in poverty. Because I come from America I am instantly categorized as being wealthy - so this creates quite a strange dynamic. The rich man will preach to Lazarus about why being rich isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Essentially.

Also, the translator isn't super confident so the language is simple. Maryanna Yatsik and I have created a magazine to tell the story. On the cover is a rich person to grab people's attention, but inside is the story of Lazarus and the rich man in paintings, photographs, and drawings. It will help to give another layer to the story.

Lazarus
Luke 16:19-31
16:19 "There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day.

And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores.

The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side.

He called out, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.' But Abraham said, 'Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony.

Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.' He said, 'Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house-- for I have five brothers--that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.'

Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.' He said, 'No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"

Jesus begins this story with a hook. “There once was a rich man.”

We love stories about rich people. The gossip columns only talk about poor folk if they were rich at one point. Magazines feature stories about rich people, pictures of their houses, and even information about their pets. Stories about rich people sell magazines and get people’s attention.

But then Jesus turns the story upside down.

This is a story about two people, but only one of them is important – and it’s not the one we would think. We never learn the name of the rich man. This is a story about Lazarus. Poor, poor, Lazarus.

Yes, there’s a really rich man in this story – but his name’s not important. The hero of our story is Lazarus. Poor, poor, Lazarus. The man who lies on the street in front of the mansion and begs for scraps of food – he’s our hero. The man with sores all over his body, the man who can’t afford medical care, the man who is so pitiable that even the dogs lick his wounds. He, Lazarus, is the hero of this story.

For Lazarus lived a good life. He loved God and he loved people. Lazarus probably even cared for the dogs that licked his wounds. Lazarus didn’t have anything in the world, but he had treasure in heaven. The people who were listening to Jesus were Pharisees – and they were lovers of money. They were people who would see Lazarus on the ground and would step over him in order to go and sit and visit with the rich man.

Our story begins with the death of two men. First poor Lazarus dies and enters his reward in heaven. Then the other guy, the rich one, also dies … and ends up in hell.

The rich man in hell asks Abraham to send help. But Abraham refuses. In life, the two men had lived very different lives. The rich one had already lived his reward. And Lazarus had only wanted the scraps off of the rich man’s table. The rich man asks that Lazarus be allowed to dip his finger and cool his tongue with it – the equivalent of giving scraps off the table.

Abraham says that it’s too far – no one can cross from heaven to hell. So the rich man asks that Lazarus be sent to warn the rich man’s family. Abraham also says no to this. The rich man’s family has the law and the prophets – they wouldn’t listen even if someone should rise from the dead.

When we read stories of rich people – we usually know the outcome. Rich people get whatever they want. Their money makes their crimes disappear, their children get jobs they could never earn, and even the roads they drive on are nicer than the roads we ride on.

But in this story the rich man is told no. No. No. No. He offers different solutions, and each time Abraham tells him no.

Now, this story isn’t an original story that Jesus told. It was a common story 2000 years ago. People were familiar with this story. But, Jesus changed the ending. In the story that people knew the rich man got what he wanted and Lazarus went to his five brothers to warn them. In Jesus’ version Abraham says “no” even to that request. They have the law and the prophets. They wouldn’t listen “even if someone should rise from the dead.”

And this is the big finish. Because, who rises from the dead? Jesus rises from the dead. And even if someone should rise from the dead – some will still ignore him.

This is a story of faithfulness. Yes, Lazarus was a poor man - but he wasn't in paradise because of the smallness of his checkbook. He was in paradise because of the largeness of his heart. He was faithful to the law and the prophets and heaven was his reward. The rich man wasn't in he'll because of his wealth. He was in hell because his wealth made him forget that he needed God.

It’s easy to forget where everything came from. Statistics tell us that most people feel they would be happy if ONLY they earned 30% more than they did. They did a survey in which they asked people how much money they would have to make in order to be truly happy. Most people said about 30% more than they were making at the time. If someone was making 1000 UAH, they probably felt they could be truly happy if they were making 1300 UAH. If someone was making a million UAH, they felt they could be happy at 1.3 million UAH. There’s something in all of us that just wants a little more than what we have.

Even a small amount of wealth can make us forget our need for God. There was a man in West Virginia who had always been rather poor. He had a wife and two children who loved him very much. Then one day he won the lottery – and he was sure that his life would finally be better. He couldn’t have been more wrong. His life did change. He suddenly had money and he ended up using it to buy expensive drugs and prostitutes. His wife left him and took the children. He was arrested and sent to prison. After he got out of prison he quickly spent millions of dollars on things he didn’t need. The only people who would talk to him were people who wanted access to his money. Soon enough he ran out of money and quickly found himself in the exact same spot he had been just a few years before – except now he had no job, no family, and no faith in God.

How quickly would we forget God if we felt that we provided our daily bread instead of God?

It’s easy for us to think that our problems would go away if we had more money. But that’s a lie. That’s a lie that too many of us believe. Our scripture today teaches that we will be doing a lot better if we are faithful. If we listen to the law and the prophets – yes, we will still be poor- we will be rich in faith and in love for one another. And really, could there be anything better than that?

Barber Shop

2010-09-20T08:47:00.001-07:00

I don't let anyone cut my hair who didn't also personally cut Stalin's hair.

There are two types of places where men can get a hair cut in Ukraine.

The first is a place like "Very Modern." It's where men go who want their hair dyed, styled, or groomed. Scruffy looking men go in and exit with fabulous Bieberesque quaffs. The owner/manager looks out of place in any place. His clothes could walk down a runway in Milan but his hair could saunter out of a trailer in Alabama. Men can either explain which style their would enjoy, or just entrust the responsibility to the vision of the maestro.

The second option is a place like "Men's Hall." Men go there to get their hair cut. Like, they go in with hair and they leave without it. Only one style escapes the Men's Hall; and that style is ready for war or skinhead parades. The barber is ancient. He uses a strait edge razor to clean up around your ears and then rubs pure alcohol onto the razor burns - all with shaky hands. I go there because I don't have to explain what I want. I mean, that's not an option at this place. You sit down, shut up, and enjoy your damn haircut.

Now, I think this is interesting because these two very different hair cut experiences are both making money in this city. Men who go to one would never go to the other. I like my barber to be 80+ and I wouldn't be caught dead getting my hair styled by mullet-man at "very modern." But for a lot of people, the idea of having a very old man shave their head sounds like a horrific experience.

We are quick to assume that what works for us is best. We even come to the conclusion that it is the only valid option. We think that if we are doing something new that it is the trend of the future and everyone should get on board. This is especially true in the church. We either assume that the other group is sacrilegious or stuffy. I think that both of these views are wrong.

In the same way that I hope neither place for a men's haircut puts the other out of business, I hope that neither style of worship or church "wins" out. I hope that they both succeed together and learn from each other.

Because in the end, either way, the result is what matters. Did a scruffy looking guy end up with better hair? Good - he had a haircut. Did a group come together to help each other connect with God? Good - we've had church.

Baby

2010-09-12T10:40:00.000-07:00

Oddly enough, I feel quite small when I hold Jesse. At four months old, he is the perfect age to be held. His neck is strong and I'm not afraid of hurting him, but everything in his eyes screams the word "Precocious!" While David and Shannon and I munch on Ukrainian food worth far more than we pay, our facial expressions go from serious to gloopy as we catch eyes with Jesse sitting on our laps. From angry face to cooing sounds in the twinkle of an eye - someone's very special eyes.

I feel so small - to know that I was at one time just as small as baby Jesse. To know that once I needed EVERYTHING done for me. To know that God still catches eyes with me, and that God's face lights up in the same way that mine does - but for reasons far beyond mine.

Standard Umbrella Height

2010-09-09T07:28:00.001-07:00

I only resent my height when it rains. While most prominently noticed while living in Korea - it is a common fact that my eyes reside at Standard Umbrella Height(SUH). SUH is an international phenomenon. It seems that when rain appears, any level of decorum vanishes like the Wicked Witch of the West. On a normal day in Ukraine, only 4 or 5 people would physically push me in an attempt to jockey for better position. On a rainy day - with the full force of umbrella tentacles in my eyes - at least a dozen people feel free to push through me. Even though I am defenseless against the rain, umbrellaed people feel no moral qualm in pushing me out of their way or, at the very least, poking me in the eye with the points of their umbrella.

Ally, Ally, in come free.

2010-09-03T02:06:00.000-07:00

Luke 15:1-10
15:1 Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him.And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."
So he told them this parable:

"Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.'

Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

"Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.'

Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents."

I’ve never raised sheep. I grew up in the village, and I spent summers on my Aunt and Uncle’s farm – but we only ever had a few sheep at a time. I remember them as dirty animals and rather stupid. We raised cows. I really love cows. They are smart and have great personalities.

Aunt Sharol and Uncle Terry had about 80 cows for most of my childhood. We would milk them every day and feed them twice a day. When we first arrived every summer I would be terrified of the cows. When you’re a little kid – cows are HUGE animals. Uncle Terry relished in sharing stories of cows gone wild – always ending with a little boy getting trampled for not minding the adults around him. I was also disgusted by the smell. Farms smell really bad.

But after the first week or two of returning to the farm, I would get used to the animals again. I wouldn’t mind the smell and I would begin to get to know the cows. On our farm, cows are named using the first letter of the first name of their mother.
Lady was the mother of Lucky who was the mother of Lucy. It’s a good system to keep things organized. The summer I was 7 Lucy was pregnant and Aunt Sharol and Uncle

Terry promised me that I could name her baby calf. It had to start with an L.
This was a very important task and I spent my days with Lucy getting to know her personality. I would sing to Lucy at night to make sure she was comfortable. One night Uncle Terry sent me to bed and told me that Lucy would probably have her baby the next day.

It was like Christmas morning – I woke up at 5 AM giddy with excitement. After feeding the cows and eating a big breakfast, though, I began to get sleepy. I fell asleep on the dining room floor. I woke up to the sound of Uncle Terry stomping through the house. Something was wrong.

It was time for Lucy to deliver, but she wasn’t in the barn. Maybe she had wandered off, maybe the dogs or a wolf had chased her off, but she was somewhere in the pasture and she was having her baby. We called and we called, but she didn’t come in. She was lost. And without help she would lose her baby as well.

We gathered together and made a plan. Our families would go out and search the entire farm. We spread out and walked through the pasture. I was with my cousin Kimberly. She was 11 years older than me and practically an adult. Kimberly walked quickly through the pasture – she knew how to avoid the “mud pies” , a skill I hadn’t developed yet – and I tried to keep up. After an hour or more, we saw some movement off in the distance. Kimberly began to run, and I began screaming with excitement.

Lucy had given birth to her baby, but it wasn’t doing well. Cousin Kimberly threw the calf over her shoulders and ran to the barn. My sister, mom, and I walked with Lucy back to the barn – just hoping that the baby would live.

We got back to the barn and Uncle Terry came to meet us. He said, “Well, Michael, what are we gonna name it?” I was thrilled. The calf had survived and I finally had my chance to name a cow; even if it was a little sickly. I named her Liberty Bell.

My family had been to Philadelphia the week before, and I was so impressed by the bell that had been wrung at the moment of my countries independence - wrung so loudly that it cracked. Even though the Bell was cracked, it still represented our freedom. So, her official name was Liberty Bell – but we all called her liberty.

There’s a sense of freedom in being found.

We read these stories and they remind us of lost and found moments in our own lives. That time that a wallet was returned after a very scary week without money. We read these two stories in a row and we think, “yes – God searches out what is lost” and we move on with our lives. We should slow down. These stories are very different and they tell us very different things about God and our relationship with God.
The woman and her silver coins appears to be a straightforward “lost and found story.” We’ve all lost money – it’s a terrible experience. But when we look at the story in depth; some questions arise. Why is it a woman and not just a person? Why the specific number? Why?

These silver coins are more than money – these were the adornment of coins that women wore. This was her dowry. She would have never removed these 10 coins from her body – even when she was asleep. These 10 coins defined who she was. They defined her future and her present purity. Losing one of these coins was a very big deal.

My mother once lost the diamond out of her wedding ring. For days she was agitated and upset. She searched the house from top to bottom several times. The diamond in her ring is probably not so valuable – my parents aren’t wealthy and they certainly were not wealthy 30 years ago when they got married. The diamond was valuable to my mother because it was a symbol – it was a symbol that her marriage vows are forever – like a diamond. The diamond had been with her for all the years of her marriage – it represented who she was as a person. When she saw a sparkle out of the corner of her eye she rejoiced as she picked the diamond out of a rug where it had fallen almost a week before.

She regained her identity as a wife.

The story of the woman and her 10 coins tells us that God will search for us – but it tells us so much more. Jesus tells us that God finds identity in the act of finding us. We are valuable to God – we symbolize who God is. We are a symbol of who God is.

The story of the 99 is even more intriguing.

Which one of you who has 100 grieven, finding that he only has 99 leaves the pile of money behind to search for the 1.

(At this point, I will set 99 UAH down on a table and begin to search for the 1. I will have a few people ready to begin taking some of the money from the stack.)

Okay, maybe I left it in the office (have more people take more money).

Found it. I found it. Everything is good! I found the UAH! Hooray!

"Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?”
Which of us? Really? None of us would do this! We would never leave 99 perfectly good sheep to the threats of nature in order to save 1 lamb that got away.

In the story of the woman and her 10 silver coins we learn that God will clean the house to search for us when we are lost. God will search in the same ways we would to get back that which is lost. In this story we learn that God will go much further than we would.

We enjoy safety and comfort. God is willing to take risks.

God is willing to risk everything for the salvation of the world.

Everything.

Even his only son.

So we can compare these stories with our own moments of lost and found - buy we must
go much further. Not only will God search like we will - God will search much deeper. God will find meaning and purpose in our salvation.

Jesus, by eating dinner with sinners and tax-collectors is showing the level of risk that God is willing to take. Jesus is willing to let go of any status and prestige he has. My parent’s constantly reminded me that they had worked hard to build a good name for our family and that I was not to destroy it by hanging out with the “wrong people.” Jesus cares enough about the lost that he is willing to risk his standing with those who have already been found.

The Jewish leaders lost any respect they had for Jesus as they watched him eating and drinking with sinner. No one who loved God would do this.

Jesus knew that everything had to change. Until this point, the Jewish community only reached out by allowing others in. They never went out and told others about God. Only when an inquirer came in would a Jewish person be willing to tell them about the good news of God. With Jesus this changed. We are directly commanded to go out – to leave these four walls behind – and to tell people the good news.

We’re not supposed to wait until interested people show up at Pilgrims and then tell them about God. We are supposed to take risks. We are supposed to go out and eat and drink with sinners and share the good news of the God who is searching for them. Of the God who takes risks for them.

I don't know where you are in your life - but I know where God is. God is searching. God is searching for his little lost lamb. God is searching for her tenth coin. God is searching for you and your heart. Your safety and your salvation.

When I was young the neighborhood kids would play flashlight tag. We would wait until dark and one person would be "it" and, with flashlight in hand, would try to find everyone before they made it back to "home base."

As a kid, when I heard these stories of lost and found – or of the idea that Jesus was searching for me- I would always think of this game - that I was hiding in the dark and afraid that Jesus would find me. I thought that God wanted to punish me for my sins. I was so afraid that the shepherd would find the lamb and punish it for running away – that God would find me and punish me for my sins. My whole idea of God was wrong.

Our game had one other rule. If you wanted the game to end for some reason – maybe it had gone on for too long because someone had a really good hiding spot, or maybe someone’s mother had called them home, or for whatever reason - anyone could shout "ally, ally, in come free!". It meant that we could all come back to home - no running or penalties or fear. But it also meant that the person who called it automatically became “it” for the next round. Even if you were home safely – if you called “ally, ally, in come free” you were it.

This is closer to God searching for us. It’s not some attempt to find us and punish us. It’s an end to the game. You get to come home free and Jesus takes the punishment of having lost the game – even though he hadn’t lost the game.

Our busy lives seem to resemble a game gone terribly wrong. We work all day and night for goals that don’t really matter. We hide in all the wrong places and we misunderstand what God is all about. God feels its time that we stop playing the game and start living life to the fullest.

When God risked everything and sent his son - God finished the game. The cry goes out, ally ally in come free.

taxes

2010-08-27T09:38:00.001-07:00

I think that everyone should go here and try this experiment to see how their political stances would affect the long term deficit.

It's interesting to see how things would work if you were in charge.

Jesus as Anti-Hero

2010-08-22T23:21:00.000-07:00

Superman had a single weakness. Kryptonite could bring him down. He was eternally good; kind, caring, sympathetic, strong, masculine, etc. Superman was a hero. My grandfather and father read the comics. They received their notion of what a hero was from the man of steel. Of course, He had many imitators. There were many heroes for their generations. Hundreds of men (and a handful of women) who were heroes. Who were essentially infallible, minus one small flaw.

In the earlier portion of the 20th century the Christian faith had few qualms with tweaking Jesus here and there to make him more Superman-like. By this point, Jesus already glowed in the pictures. The scene of Him overturning the money-changers' tables in the temple became more prevalent. We sing cheesy up-tempo lyrics "Jesus is my super-hero" without a hint of sarcasm or shame. And, of course, Jesus is the savior of the world ... so this shouldn't be a problem.

If you're watching TV or reading books today, you'll see something a little different. Our superstars play anti-heroes. The biggest shows center on highly-conflicted protagonists.

Dexter is a serial-killer who only kills other serial killers. You find yourself rooting for him, hoping that the kill is clean and that he doesn't get caught. True Blood is filled with anti-heroes. People that you love and hope for, but people who are also conflicted. Almost every popular show touches on this phenomenon. Characters are no longer all-loving heroes. It's no longer black and white. Everything is gray.

Christians who lived through the 1950s still cling to the black-and-white world that Superman dominated. But what is left for those of us who have grown up in the gray?

When Jesus arrived on the scene, the people felt that they finally had their Messiah. But Jesus had a major flaw in the eyes of the people. Jesus refused to give the people what they wanted. They wanted a strong political and military leader - and Jesus, who would have been more than capable of such a feat, absolutely refused.

He squandered opportunities to incite uprisings. He disbanded crowds when they got too large. He healed miraculously, but he didn't heal those whom the people wished that he would. He healed poor beggars, women, children, racial-misfits, and even the young lover-boy of a Roman centurion - one more victim of the enemies rule - because of the Roman guard's "great faith!" He never found His Lois Lane. When he had his chance to ride in on a white stallion and make His declaration, he chose a young donkey instead.

Jesus was not Super-man. This is most shocking because Jesus could have been. As fully God, Jesus could have used the full weight of His divinity in any number of ways (and the devil tried to get him to do it...) but Jesus refused the role of Superman. Jesus chose the role of Anti-Hero.

He lived in dark shadows, ate with sinners, talked with the untouchables, and loved to the point of death without receiving love in return.

Christianity hangs in the balance. The church is dissolving because Superhero Jesus is failing to deliver, and my generation is turning it's back because we simply don't believe (or really want to believe) in superhero stories anymore. We want a savior, fully God and fully man.

And, oddly enough, that's exactly how the Gospel narrative has read all along.

Cackle.

2010-08-20T12:01:00.000-07:00

Nina cackles when she wins a head-to-head game of Uno. Her high-pitched head laugh reverberates around the room. It sounds like the laugh of the crypt keeper from the TV show I wasn't allowed to watch as a child. If you met her and her laugh was anything else you would be disappointed.

Sometimes Nina seems impossibly old. And impossibly fierce. Not only did she survive WWII, but probably the first one. She held on to the Unsinkable Molly Brown in the lifeboat off the Titanic. She walloped Ivan the Terrible on the back of his head for smarting off to her when he was a kid.

Nina is the "grandmother" of the center for street kids. In reality we think she's early 60s, but the math is always fuzzy at best. She's tough with the kids so that the rest of us (workers and volunteers) don't have to be. Which is nice. She treats me like one of the unruly kids. Which is not so nice.

And they ARE unruly. As a rule. There' a whole lot of crazy, a lot of crying, and screaming, and tantrums ... and the kids are bad, too. Our goal at the center is to model the idea of a healthy family to kids/young adults who live on the streets and at risk families who pass through our doors.

We offer warm meals and a safe environment. And a grandmother who very well could smack the silly right out yo mouth if you push too far.

Hahahahahahahahah.

The church according to Alan Ball

2010-08-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

Alan Ball is the genius behind some of HBO's biggest hits. His credits include writer/produce of Six Feet Under and True Blood. If you haven't seen these shows - I apologize in advance. These are not "christian" shows. These are not even shows which can be viewed un-edited on basic cable TVs during daylight hours.

Six Feet Under follows a family of undertakers through the lens of the people they are burying. True Blood is about vampires.

I know, I know. It sounds pretty ridiculous, right? It's not. They are amazing shows - well written, filmed, acted, and produced pieces of art that reflect and shape our culture. I hope that my children study the impact Alan Ball left on the world.

I am absolutely fascinated by Alan Ball's treatment of Christianity. Ball is openly gay and grew up in the south. In the wealthy suburbs of Atlanta. Of any American experience - surely his would lead to open hostility to the church.

Let's take True Blood for example:

Yes, some characters are stock religious nuts. Terra's mother, Lettie May, makes Jesus look like a jerk sometimes. And, yet, she is at least a real example. She is a complicated person who would like to make Jesus and the Christian faith an integral part of her life and the lives of those around her. Which of us isn't conflicted ... dare I say, hypocritical ... sometimes?

The "Fellowship of the Sun" is a "church" based on the idea that all Christians should hate vampires. It's full of nuts - and not too loosely based on some televangelist ministries.

But the real surprise is the good and faithful Christians sprinkled throughout the story. There's an old country church in Bon Temps, LA which could hold it's own against any church in history.

The main characters grandmother is a faithful member. She is a loving, caring Christian who ministers to all around her. She raised her grandchildren after their parent's death. She risks the ire of the town to invite Vampire Bill to come and speak at the Bon Temps historical society which meets at the church.

Hoyt Fortenberry is a committed Christian. He stands up to his mother for not following the teachings of Jesus - he calls her out for hating everyone, including Methodists. In one recent scene, a main character, Jason, calls out Hoyt "You're a Christian Hoyt, it ain't cool to judge." after he makes a judgmental comment about a girl. Hoyt waited until he was in love before he had sex (the show hadn't really brought up the possibility of human/vampire marriage at that time) - and he even joined Jessica, his vampire girlfriend, in a synthetic blood substitute beverage to show his love for her. Sex wasn't the expression of love, it was an after effect.

Now, the genius of Alan Ball, and the thing that I appreciate most is that there is a dichotomy between these two groups. There are crazy, ridiculous religious figures and then there are the Christians. There are those who make a mockery out of religion and there are those who follow Christ.

Six Feet Under deals with death. Every episode begins with someone's death. The rest of the episode features the inter-personal relationships of the dysfunctional family who runs the funeral home - through the eyes and life experience of the recently deceased.

Death and religion go hand in hand. This series offered no sanitized views on faith - there was nothing palatable; but it showed real and frank discussion on the topic of religion.

Angry people who hate God for taking their loved ones.

Christian people who couldn't survive without their faith.

The main family, as dysfunctional as any in America, attends church together infrequently. The mother lives out Christianity by trying to find joy in a setting that lacks any sense of joy. Let's just say that they wouldn't play it on the Hallmark Channel. But - it's real. It's an honest look at a (more or less) American family interacting with religion. It isn't the core of who they are - it's a fringe issue in their lives. And, ultimately, viewers get the idea that they might be much happier if they re-prioritized a little bit.

I'm glad that Alan Ball has provided these three things; an honest view of church and how it relates to an average family, specific indicators of what a crazy religious setting would look and feel like, and a tone that creates genuine appreciation for the gentle faith of characters who lead full lives and also happen to be followers of Jesus Christ.

Thank you.

Easy

2010-08-14T08:20:00.000-07:00

I would like to start out by saying that I think Jon Stewart is a very funny man. The Daily Show is my greatest source of news (this is true for many people of my generation).

Recently he said this, "Being a Methodist is easy. It’s like the The University of Phoenix of religions: you just send them 50 bucks and click “I agree” and you are saved.”

Now, luckily, I'm a United Methodist so I'm allowed to have a sense of humor. I find this quote very funny. Just like everything else he says.

Just because it hurts doesn't mean it's not funny.

Maybe we've made it too easy to be a United Methodist. Maybe the criticism is accurate. Of any denomination, we're the least likely to take a strong dramatic stance on a hot button issue. Some might consider this a bad thing. But I think it's a good thing. >> Our decades of social justice work have accomplished pretty much every goal we all agreed on. The hot button issues we face today are fringe issues on which the Bible is not incredibly clear.

We believe strongly that God loves all peoples. Even people on the other side of the aisle. We count Hillary Clinton and George W. Bush as members. Dick Cheney is a member, too - and we are a church where both of his daughters would feel comfortable worshiping with their families - traditional or not.

We are a church that believes that God is not always black and white. And we can join hands and rejoice that some of our theology is in a state of gray. A polarized society might find this a huge detractor of the level of our faithfulness; but as a community of Christ followers who vow to live in the tension of the mystery of Christ, I can't imagine any theology being more faithful to God.

I think that religion should be easy. After one of my friends had been proposed to, I asked if saying yes was a hard decision. She said it was the easiest decision she had ever made. I think that religion should be easy.

Jon Stewart's statement is a little ironic, because in the same news cycle, Jon Stewart could have reported on Dan Terry, a United Methodist who found it easy to give his life for the cause of Christ, who died in Afghanistan during a medical aid mission.

Is it easy to be a United Methodist?

You bet. It's the kind of decision, the sort of religion that defines everything else you ever do. It makes every choice you'll ever make easier.

Thank you Mr. Stewart - we'll take your comments into consideration at our next General Conference. I'd nominate you to be a speaker, even! Well, as long as you've checked the box and sent in your check.

Best Commencement speech ever. Ever.

2010-08-08T02:33:00.000-07:00

Here I stand :: Erica Goldson

There is a story of a young, but earnest Zen student who approached his teacher, and asked the Master, "If I work very hard and diligently, how long will it take for me to find Zen? The Master thought about this, then replied, "Ten years . ." The student then said, "But what if I work very, very hard and really apply myself to learn fast -- How long then?" Replied the Master, "Well, twenty years." "But, if I really, really work at it, how long then?" asked the student. "Thirty years," replied the Master. "But, I do not understand," said the disappointed student. "At each time that I say I will work harder, you say it will take me longer. Why do you say that?" Replied the Master, "When you have one eye on the goal, you only have one eye on the path."

This is the dilemma I've faced within the American education system. We are so focused on a goal, whether it be passing a test, or graduating as first in the class. However, in this way, we do not really learn. We do whatever it takes to achieve our original objective.

Some of you may be thinking, "Well, if you pass a test, or become valedictorian, didn't you learn something? Well, yes, you learned something, but not all that you could have. Perhaps, you only learned how to memorize names, places, and dates to later on forget in order to clear your mind for the next test. School is not all that it can be. Right now, it is a place for most people to determine that their goal is to get out as soon as possible.

I am now accomplishing that goal. I am graduating. I should look at this as a positive experience, especially being at the top of my class. However, in retrospect, I cannot say that I am any more intelligent than my peers. I can attest that I am only the best at doing what I am told and working the system. Yet, here I stand, and I am supposed to be proud that I have completed this period of indoctrination. I will leave in the fall to go on to the next phase expected of me, in order to receive a paper document that certifies that I am capable of work. But I contest that I am a human being, a thinker, an adventurer - not a worker. A worker is someone who is trapped within repetition - a slave of the system set up before him. But now, I have successfully shown that I was the best slave. I did what I was told to the extreme. While others sat in class and doodled to later become great artists, I sat in class to take notes and become a great test-taker. While others would come to class without their homework done because they were reading about an interest of theirs, I never missed an assignment. While others were creating music and writing lyrics, I decided to do extra credit, even though I never needed it. So, I wonder, why did I even want this position? Sure, I earned it, but what will come of it? When I leave educational institutionalism, will I be successful or forever lost? I have no clue about what I want to do with my life; I have no interests because I saw every subject of study as work, and I excelled at every subject just for the purpose of excelling, not learning. And quite frankly, now I'm scared.

John Taylor Gatto, a retired school teacher and activist critical of compulsory schooling, asserts, "We could encourage the best qualities of youthfulness - curiosity, adventure, resilience, the capacity for surprising insight simply by being more flexible about time, texts, and tests, by introducing kids into truly competent adults, and by giving each student what autonomy he or she needs in order to take a risk every now and then. But we don't do that." Between these cinderblock walls, we are all expected to be the same. We are trained to ace every standardized test, and those who deviate and see light through a different lens are worthless to the scheme of public education, and therefore viewed with contempt.

H. L. Mencken wrote in The American Mercury for April 1924 that the aim of public education is not "to fill the young of the species with knowledge and awaken their intelligence. ... Nothing could be further from the truth. The aim ... is simply to reduce as many individuals as possible to the same safe level, to breed and train a standardized citizenry, to put down dissent and originality. That is its aim in the United States."

To illustrate this idea, doesn't it perturb you to learn about the idea of "critical thinking." Is there really such a thing as "uncritically thinking?" To think is to process information in order to form an opinion. But if we are not critical when processing this information, are we really thinking? Or are we mindlessly accepting other opinions as truth?

This was happening to me, and if it wasn't for the rare occurrence of an avant-garde tenth grade English teacher, Donna Bryan, who allowed me to open my mind and ask questions before accepting textbook doctrine, I would have been doomed. I am now enlightened, but my mind still feels disabled. I must retrain myself and constantly remember how insane this ostensibly sane place really is.

And now here I am in a world guided by fear, a world suppressing the uniqueness that lies inside each of us, a world where we can either acquiesce to the inhuman nonsense of corporatism and materialism or insist on change. We are not enlivened by an educational system that clandestinely sets us up for jobs that could be automated, for work that need not be done, for enslavement without fervency for meaningful achievement. We have no choices in life when money is our motivational force. Our motivational force ought to be passion, but this is lost from the moment we step into a system that trains us, rather than inspires us.

We are more than robotic bookshelves, conditioned to blurt out facts we were taught in school. We are all very special, every human on this planet is so special, so aren't we all deserving of something better, of using our minds for innovation, rather than memorization, for creativity, rather than futile activity, for rumination rather than stagnation? We are not here to get a degree, to then get a job, so we can consume industry-approved placation after placation. There is more, and more still.

The saddest part is that the majority of students don't have the opportunity to reflect as I did. The majority of students are put through the same brainwashing techniques in order to create a complacent labor force working in the interests of large corporations and secretive government, and worst of all, they are completely unaware of it. I will never be able to turn back these 18 years. I can't run away to another country with an education system meant to enlighten rather than condition. This part of my life is over, and I want to make sure that no other child will have his or her potential suppressed by powers meant to exploit and control. We are human beings. We are thinkers, dreamers, explorers, artists, writers, engineers. We are anything we want to be - but only if we have an educational system that supports us rather than holds us down. A tree can grow, but only if its roots are given a healthy foundation.

For those of you out there that must continue to sit in desks and yield to the authoritarian ideologies of instructors, do not be disheartened. You still have the opportunity to stand up, ask questions, be critical, and create your own perspective. Demand a setting that will provide you with intellectual capabilities that allow you to expand your mind instead of directing it. Demand that you be interested in class. Demand that the excuse, "You have to learn this for the test" is not good enough for you. Education is an excellent tool, if used properly, but focus more on learning rather than getting good grades.

For those of you that work within the system that I am condemning, I do not mean to insult; I intend to motivate. You have the power to change the incompetencies of this system. I know that you did not become a teacher or administrator to see your students bored. You cannot accept the authority of the governing bodies that tell you what to teach, how to teach it, and that you will be punished if you do not comply. Our potential is at stake.

For those of you that are now leaving this establishment, I say, do not forget what went on in these classrooms. Do not abandon those that come after you. We are the new future and we are not going to let tradition stand. We will break down the walls of corruption to let a garden of knowledge grow throughout America. Once educated properly, we will have the power to do anything, and best of all, we will only use that power for good, for we will be cultivated and wise. We will not accept anything at face value. We will ask questions, and we will demand truth.

So, here I stand. I am not standing here as valedictorian by myself. I was molded by my environment, by all of my peers who are sitting here watching me. I couldn't have accomplished this without all of you. It was all of you who truly made me the person I am today. It was all of you who were my competition, yet my backbone. In that way, we are all valedictorians.

I am now supposed to say farewell to this institution, those who maintain it, and those who stand with me and behind me, but I hope this farewell is more of a "see you later" when we are all working together to rear a pedagogic movement. But first, let's go get those pieces of paper that tell us that we're smart enough to do so!

[My Hero]

2010-08-07T11:02:00.000-07:00

At the hight of the apartheid struggle in South Africa - when white South Africans held all the positions of power and black South Africans appeared to be roundly defeated - Bishop Desmond Tutu stood up in a room full of white men in positions of power. Elected a Bishop in the Anglican church in his 50s he was not allowed to vote in South African politics. He wasn't white. He stood up in front of this room full of voting men and he said, "It's not too late. It's not too late to join the right side."

I don't really have a hero. I have a hero-type. I love people who stand up at the wrong moment and say the right thing.

I love when people say something that makes the room grow silent and cold; when people find themselves in the statement.

This is so much more than a good speaker. It takes a certain person - a certain life - to have the moral authority to speak such words.

The Pharisees were always on Jesus' case about the issue of authority. They wanted an establishment to have granted credibility to this preacher - Jesus had the authority of God, and His life to back that up.

Jimmy Carter had the courage to say that he would rather be a good Christian than a good president.

My Godfather apologized in the middle of a sermon for a joke he had made earlier in the day that, upon reconsideration, was probably a little bit racist. He just stopped mid-sentence and began his apology.

Mother Teresa left no sacred cows unscathed as she tore apart the brutal world after it awarded her its Nobel Peace Prize.

Jonathan Graham Pound stood up to the administration and fought for the rights of students on our campus.

Sophie Scholl smoke, drank, and loved Jesus in the same conversation. She was also a communist. She gave her life trying to topple the Nazis - she confessed her guilt in order to refute the idea that the mentally challenged don't deserve to live.

Corrie Ten Boom shook the hand of an SS guard and offered him the forgiveness of Jesus Christ.

My mother taught me to love these people. Debbie Airgood is shy and reserved. Throughout our childhood she worked tirelessly to insure that my sister and I would not inherit that quality. She taught us to love the Truth and to speak boldly. She laughs some times at the monsters she has created - but deep down she knows that we will leave our mark on the world.

I don't want to have a lot of money.

I don't want a big house.

I hope that I always remain in weird shadows, off the radar, ministering to people who need to know that Jesus Christ loves EVEN them.

But someday I want to stand up and speak words that will change the world.

I want to be my hero.

2010-08-06T09:40:00.001-07:00

Last night I went for a walk with a friend from English camp. Yana and her brother Dima are really fun to be around.

We went for a walk.

In Ukraine, going for a walk is a normal activity for friends hanging out. It's even a pleasant date idea. The correct translation of "hang out" in Russian is literally "to walk." We walked for four and a half hours.

We had planned to end with dinner. At hour two it was decided that McDonald's would be a nice end to the evening. I decided on my usual - a hamburger and an ice cream cone. At hour four I supersized to a Big Mac, fries, and a Coca-Cola (with ice!).

When we began to eat, Yana noticed that I didn't pray before eating. At camp we had prayed before every meal, and she was a little surprised that I didn't pray before my meals. I told her, "It's okay - it's easier to ask forgiveness later than to ask permission now.

Any theology that considers smoking cigarettes a sin would be incomplete and insincere if it didn't also include trips to McDonald's as sinful.

We're quick to label things as sinful - as long as their not the things we do. This is odd, primarily because a lot of what we hold quite dear is actually sinful.

Yes, Virginia, prayer chains are just gossip loops.
Yes, the fact that American Idol has the word "idol" in the title should tip us off that Christians shouldn't be flocking to it.
No, you shouldn't live in a house with more bathrooms than people.
No, you shouldn't eat food that kills you (because, like the case against cigarettes, your body is a temple of the Lord).

The real reason I didn't pray before eating at McDonald's is because Jesus taught his disciples to not pray in public or to make a show of their prayers - and perhaps doing so is also a sin.

political in nature

2010-08-01T01:27:00.000-07:00

Generally speaking, progressive types tend to shy away from missions. People happen to view missions and missionaries as the prerogative of “holy rollers” and “Bible thumpers.” Usually people of a conservative persuasion are more thoroughly convinced that others must believe exactly as they in order to obtain eternal life.

Conservative missionaries tend to attract conservative people from the host culture. Those people in turn become even more conservative under the influence of the conservative missionary – or at least they find value and reason behind their conservative views.

This has happened all throughout Eurasia. Baptist missionaries targeted Russia and the former soviet countries after the fall of communism. Thousands of conservative Russians became Christians and quickly fell into the mold of conservative Christianity. But, oddly, the missionaries never made any attempt to enculturate the political views – they simply supplanted American political views. We have thousands of Jerry Fallwell conservatives all around Eurasia. It’s really bizarre.

They aren’t opposed to their own politicians – they dislike Bill Clinton and Barack Obama. Even Christians who don’t speak English know that the KJV is a superior translation of the English Bible. Even after leading Evangelicals dismissed the works and finding of Ron Wyatt, an “archeologist” who managed to “prove” almost all of the Old Testament, Christians in this part of the world still cling to his findings.

Now, I’m rather progressive. As useful as titles are, I’m thoroughly Wesleyan but close enough to Mainline Protestant. I’m conservative enough that people say they can “still work with” me, but liberal enough that I make them uncomfortable when people ask me questions on social issues.

First and foremost I try and learn a lesson from the mistakes others have made. I work hard to remind myself that there is no political viewpoint that is as important as the Gospel message. Missionaries should never convey a political opinion with the same gusto and fervor as they do the good news of Jesus Christ.

When I do discuss politics, I try to offer my viewpoint as one possibility. I try to ask questions and offer feedback. I challenge easy answers as often as they are given. I change the subject when confronted with conversations about American politics.

A good case study is GLBT rights. Eurasian Christians have been taught all of the Jerry Fallwell rhetoric on this issue. They know the Focus on the Family Facts. They know that they do not support gay rights and that GLBT people are not welcome in their churches. But our countries, governments, and cultures are at two very different places on this issue – and our churches should react in two very different ways. In our culture, GLBT people are readily accepted and our churches must deal with how we will show loving acceptance and tolerance without showing that we accept their sin. It’s a high wire act for sure. In Eurasian culture, GLBT people face a living hell. Openly gay people are routinely targets of hate crimes. Lesbians are raped with some regularity by men who feel that they “can turn them straight”. These governments offer no protection (and some former soviet states were still executing homosexuals well into the 1990s!), no rights, and no equality. The churches here face a very different side of the issue and should respond very differently. The church here has an amazing opportunity to be on the forefront of a movement calling for greater human rights for an oppressed minority. But, sadly, we taught them to view the issue through the lens of our American political situation.

Often when discussing politics, I tend to overcompensate.

It disgusts me that missionaries who entered after the Cold War have taught a new generation of Christians that war is good and profitable. This is one “political” topic which I make no bones about sharing. I routinely remind those around me that it is because of my Christian belief that I am strongly opposed to war.
Ultimately I feel that Christian belief should transform the way in which people view politics. We should have the full realization that political thought pales in comparison with the richness of Jesus Christ and is but a small facet of the diamond that is Christianity. A flat side of a diamond can’t cut glass – you need an edge where several sides come together to form a point in order to cut glass. If our religion is really supposed to transform cultures, politics will play a small but important part.

I was having a discussion with a progressive friend here in Ukraine. She asked me if my Christian friends here would accept and welcome her. I would hate to sell my friends short, but I don’t think they would. They have been taught one (extremely-politicized) angle of Christianity and they would probably reject her based on that viewpoint.

As a missionary who happens to be a progressive Christian, I feel a very strong sense of call to reach out to those on the other side of the aisle. I’m here to let progressive people know that Jesus came for them, too. Jesus lived and died for all people, regardless of political persuasion. And the churches we leave behind should follow to Golgotha and also show no regard for political persuasion.

2010-07-30T07:55:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the fear paralyzes my courage.

Their arms, scarred unfathomably deep, remind me that I have lived a life of privilege. I have slept outside only for the fun of it. Only after purchasing expensive equipment to do so safely. I can count the number of nights I have lived in transition; always from one bed to another. I have never known a night without a promise of morning.

My greatest fear is that my heart will grow hard - that their pain will become routine. That I will stop noticing the scars. But perhaps that is all they want.

Maybe they are counting on my courage to kick in and for me to see them as normal.

2010-07-28T23:10:00.000-07:00

It seems I can't ever find enough down time to write all the things I want to write. And that when I do have down time, I can't think of the things I have thought to write.

2010-07-19T00:30:00.000-07:00

When I was at my college, it seemed that no one could find a pastor who preached a good sermon. The sermons weren't exegetical enough - "He only tells stories" - or they were too boring - "It wouldn't kill him to tell a joke every now and then" - or anything else on the list of complaints.

I was quite critical of my pastors' sermons. This was a reflection of my theological education. There's something about learning the Bible that makes you feel vastly superior to everyone else.

Now I feel differently. I feel that a pastor who cares about his or her congregation really can't preach a bad sermon. A caring pastor might not hit the needs of every member ever week - but he or she will work to meet the needs of the people through the spoken word. And ultimately, I think that's all that matters.

I preach somewhat regularly at Youth to Jesus. I enjoy this role. It's a creative outlet - it's difficult, but in a good way.

I imagine my college peers would feel that my sermons aren't exegetical enough (meaning that I don't go through and explain the Greek word by word and explain every custom of the Hebrew people to extract the exact meaning as originally given) (but, I mean ... I've read Jesus' sermons and it seems to me that he told a lot of stories, too)

I think that some pastors are really great public speakers. And good for them. But, I don't think that should be understood to make them great pastors. Fancy words don't make a pastor great.

Our lives are the sermons we preach most often. I would rather have a pastor who consistently preaches 5s and 6s from the pulpit, but knocks it out of the ballpark with 9s and 10s in daily life sermons.

Healing

2010-07-15T05:51:00.000-07:00

My hand suffered a small cut on December 5, 2009. It was a big day and the cut was an insignificant part of it. The cut happened to be only a centimeter or two, but it took months to heal. The emotional damage of that day was significantly more severe - and I don't know how long it will take to heal.

Goodbyes hurt for a lifetime. While my cut was still scabbing over in March, it eventually healed and only left a small scar. I don't know if the rest of me will be so lucky.

An old man was once telling me about his wife. She had died years before, but he described her and his love for her in such words that it seemed that she had passed during the night and the ambulance was still sitting in the driveway.

It's safe to assume that goodbyes don't get easier with age. Just more numerous.

Dad told me that I had to talk louder. I was already yelling, but dad told me that I had to yell louder. I didn't understand, because Aunt Carol wasn't hard of hearing. Only a few weeks before I had shared the joke [How do you make a hanky dance? You put a little boogie in it!] with her. She had shared it with everyone at the hospital. Staff and other patients. She told us about one patient who had escaped from the cancer ward to go drink at a local bar. It was clear from her description of his shots that she may have also escaped for a few drinks. And when she wanted a hug I refused because I was scared. She had so many machines hooked up to her and she was screaming to be heard. I was only 8. I never said goodbye.

[What's harder than saying goodbye? Not saying goodbye!]

Sermon July 15th

2010-07-12T02:30:00.000-07:00

Mary and Martha.
Luke 9:38 - 42 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

We enter into a situation of sibling rivalry in our story today. We find ourselves with Jesus seeing an all too common side of human life. There were other sibling rivalries in the Bible – Cain and Able, Jacob and Esau – and they didn’t end so well. We enter the lives and we think we know the story – we think we have lived this story.

My sister and I are four years apart. When we were in school my sister was perfect. I say this not out of spite or in exaggeration, but simply as a fact. It’s _____ insert current weather______ outside today and my sister was perfect. My sister was a natural leader and an obvious teacher’s pet. She would grow up to be a doctor, and her academic resume reflect her future career path. She visited teaching hospitals throughout High School and sang and played her instrument in regional competitions.

I was not perfect. I was awkwardly shaped and couldn’t do many things well. I wasn’t a leader. I didn’t like school and my teachers knew it. I didn’t play an instrument well and I didn’t sing well yet. I did my own thing. I was artsy and thought outside of the box.

It was sometimes a miserable experience to grow up in the shadow of my big sister. I can’t count the times teachers explained to me how much smarter my sister was and how much better she was.

When I read today’s story I immediately tense up. He visited “Martha’s home.” Not the home of Mary and Martha … or even the home of Martha and Mary … but the home of Martha.

We find value in busyness. In offices we jokingly "look busy" when the boss walks through the room. Martha is a busy person. As head of the household it is her responsibility to ensure that everyone is healthy, happy, and well fed. There is always a roast in the oven and dishes to be done. Martha feels as though she simply can't get ahead.

I dislike all repetitive tasks. I always try to get out of doing dishes. Washing, hanging, and folding laundry is tedious. Making my bed is pointless. The same dishes will be dirty and stacked in the sink tomorrow, the clothes will just get dirty again, and no one will see my neatly pressed sheets before I mess them up again the next night.

I tell people that I hate doing these things because I'm a boy - but I think it goes deeper than that. I think I'm a Mary person.

Perhaps the whole world can be broken down into Martha people and Mary people.

We don’t value Mary people the way we should

Mary was an afterthought. Mary could never measure up to her big sister. Perhaps she was a little lazy and maybe not as bright or put together as her sister.
Maybe Mary was all of these things – but at least she had her priorities straight. When she was interested or intrigued she followed her gut. When Jesus of Nazareth came through Mary realized that the dishes in the sink didn’t matter.
Jesus had just come from teaching. He had been out and about and a religious leader asks “Who is my neighbor.” He tells the story of the good Samaritan. In the familiar story, 2 good people pass by one of their own and only the last, a political enemy stops to help the injured man. In David’s telling of the story, the Russian politician is the one who shows mercy.

The question is aked - who is my neighbor? Whom do I have to love? And Jesus resoundly answers … EVERYONE.

And in this setting, the all too familiar setting of sibling rivalry, the question is posed again - whom do I have to love? EVERYONE, even your sister. How often do I have to love? ALWAYS.

As a Christian, I need to love everyone. Even my perfect sister.

They say that sharing your faith with a family member is hardest. Witnessing to a stranger on the street is SO much easier than telling a family member that Jesus loves them. I think that Christians sometimes do street evangelism because they’re too scared to share real life with people.

I was taught once that if you have a hard time telling others about Jesus that you should look at yourself in the mirror. Say, Michael, I love you, and Jesus does too.

The gospel transitions from the abstract to the concrete. Whom do I have to love? “my neighbor”
Ok … what does that mean …. A political enemy and a perfect sister. Yep. Got it.
… How often do I have to love? Always.

I always read this story as though Martha finally got what she had coming. Final vindication for all the awards and diplomas my sister had earned.

I read the story wrong.

Jesus isn’t putting Martha down – he’s lifting Mary up. He’s teaching them to love one another and making them equals. I believe he’s teaching Martha to learn from Mary and Mary to learn from Martha. He’s teaching them to not jockey for position as leader; but to walk side by side – hand in hand as friends.

We see these sisters later on in the Jesus narrative and they are described as inseparable friends. They learned their lesson and began to love one another.
In college my sister stopped being so perfect and I grew up a whole bunch. Jesus has taught us to learn from each other and to walk side by side. I’m not in my sister’s shadow and she’s not in mine.

Some people see this story as an admonition that it’s better to sing praise hymns than to wash dishes. I don’t believe this is the case. Jesus doesn't speak out against the Martha people. Jesus speaks out against trying to change others to fit our mold.

Jesus commends Mary because she has lovingly accepted her sister for who she is. We all show love in different ways – Martha showed love by preparing the house and Mary showed loved by sitting and listening to Jesus – but Mary showed love to her sister by humbly accepting Martha for who she was. Martha had to take that step and accept her sister for who she was.

When we love others we accept who they are. We love our roommates even though they snore at night. We love our friends even though they do so many weird things. We love our families even though they are a little crazy. We love our sister even though she’s perfect.

Jesus doesn't want us to make people more like US - he wants us to make people more like HIM.

This is the essence of the Gospel message. Love God, Love others. Love your brother, love a commie pinko, hug a hippy, share a meal with a stranger, live with less and give the rest away, worship God daily. This is the core of the message.

Do you know that you are the Gospel?

You are the good news of Jesus Christ living in a sad world hungry for something more. Our lives open the Bible to thousands who will never crack the cover. To a hungry man, bread is good news. To a world that has never experienced unconditional love, your kindness is good news. You are the Gospel. You are the proof that Jesus rose from the dead 2000 years ago. Your life of loving service proves His divinity.

Go into all the world and love – even when it’s hard.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

[Get creative!]

2010-07-11T12:45:00.000-07:00

"...creative people, for the most part, exhibit active moods and positive affect. They’re not particularly happy — contentment is a kind of complacency creative people rarely have. But they’re engaged, motivated, and open to the world." - Newsweek, The Creativity Crisis - Bronson and Merryman

I'm a creative person. Hundreds of ideas swirl inside my mind during any second.

I feel that this makes me superior to you.

Rather, I feel that creative people are superior to non-creative people. I imagine that some of you are also creative.

I was sometimes punished for being creative.

Math classes were always boring. Once, I decided to create my own method of solving one type of problems. While my answers were correct, the work was different than everyone else. The teacher failed me for cheating. My mother took the test in to the teacher to show that I had arrived at the answers in a different way - and couldn't possibly have cheated. The teacher yelled at my mother for teaching me at home. I now realize that I had incredible potential in math and science, but that the education system failed me.

Every time I walk into a room I immediately see 10 ways in which the experience of the room could be improved. Churches drive me crazy because they lack creativity and I just sit and think of hundreds of improvements.

I live with other creative people. Our walls should be made of white-board so that we could write down all of our creative ideas. We use scraps of used paper. Sometimes our ideas are even too bizarre for each other. Sometimes I wonder if we are brilliantly creative or insane. One of my flat-mates designed a super-high ant hill this week.

I scrap most of my blog ideas because they are too "out-there." I hate the fact that I have to constantly reign in my creativity.

I'm constantly frustrated that I can't articulate my ideas. Not even that I have to censor myself, but that my artistic capabilities simply don't match up with my creative potential. I don't write well enough to capture the stories in my mind. I can't draw the pictures I see.

I'm a happy person by nature - but I'll never be content. I've never been anywhere I didn't want to leave eventually. I've never had a job that fulfilled me as a person or that satisfied my need to create.

Sometimes I'm incredibly happy and terribly depressed at the same time. I lack contentment because I have creativity in spades.

So maybe I'll help my flat-mate build his ant hill. Perhaps I'll have the dirt-moving skills to build it really high and really great. Maybe it will make me happy and maybe I'll be content. Maybe it will be our masterpiece.

perhaps the human spirit cannot be broken

2010-07-10T14:10:00.000-07:00

Finding my voice

2010-06-22T13:33:00.000-07:00

The margins are the most important part of any returned paper. After dozens of hard-fought days of putting off a paper, and a couple of wee-morning hours of actual writing; it is critical to examine the margins. Professor Thomas is infamous for her margin scribbles. They mirror her speaking cadence and rhythm perfectly.

Once she wrote a positive comment to let me know that I had found my "authentic voice." It is one of the most coveted red-pen markings her students look for; and I found it on my paper. Just once, though.

I have been preaching recently, and in writing and orating sermons I have tried to find my authentic voice in the sermons I preach. I can't help but realize that my "authentic voice" is a rich amalgamate of the voices who declared the Good News to me over my lifetime.

My sermons are timed by Pastor Rod Smith's watch. He was my childhood pastor, and to my recollection - his sermons never exceeded 15 minutes. They were rich and insightful. They connected the people and God. And they were short.

Rev. Lori Blocker taught me how to speak with vulnerability. Lori once shared a story with our congregation. She spoke of the great loneliness she felt to be sleeping alone - she described the ache and pain of celibacy beautifully - and then she described the sensation of literally feeling Jesus surround her with His arms and hold her. This story didn't sit well with the high-hair types and those with make-up to hide the bruises. The congregation hated it. The complained about it for weeks. I LOVED it. It was the most real thing that had happened in our church in ages and it opened a flood gate (it was only a little while later that a woman spoke of her families struggle with alcoholism - inspired, I believe, by Lori's vulnerable sermon) that brought renewal to our church.

Rev Bill Beatty taught me to always speak the truth. He apologizes publicly for sins committed publicly. He stops mid-sermon to correct any untruth he might have spoken. His sermons are interactive and accessible. They connect on many different levels and with all of the senses.

Pastor Craig taught me to preach the old time religion - and to let people know that the altar is always open. Pastor David and Pastor Charles gave me my cadence and rhythm. Dr Larsen and Dr Ken taught me to find where my congregation is and to work from there - but to not be afraid to challenge them.

Andy and Tom taught me to feel the beat and groove to the music while speaking. Darlene taught me to make a point and drive it home - to love the people enough to speak the truth in a non-judgmental voice.

I continue on the journey to find my "authentic voice." I feel that the journey is wonderful and illuminating.

2010-06-20T11:21:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Great Blog Post Challenge of 2010!

A group of friends and fellow bloggers have decided to challenge each other to think, write, and dream in new and innovative ways. The group will take turns challenging each other (with a topic, theme, photograph, song, etc... ) to write meaningful entries.

We all share a common fear of the unknown. Will people like my post? Will they be offended? Will they be bored? We are challenging each other to move beyond our normal frames of reference and to embrace new forms, media, styles, and content.

This might get interesting. When one of my post titles is [in brackets], be aware that it is an official submission for the [Challenge] and read it with a grain of salt.

Above all, we hope to grow as people and writers through this challenge. We hope, as a side benefit, that you will all enjoy our broader horizons as much as we do.

buried

2010-06-18T14:58:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the cemetery was larger than people remembered, or perhaps no one cared. In the Austrian city of Lemberg, today the Ukrainian city of L'viv, a large Jewish temple sat back behind the famed opera house. A cemetery connected the two grand buildings.

When Hitler rolled in his men used the grave stones to pave roads, when Stalin marched through he expanded those roads. As capitalism makes its triumphant stroll, a few of those streets must be rebuilt. As the workers tore up old city streets to upgrade the sewer system they began to find graves well outside the perceived boundaries of the old Jewish cemetery.

The Nazis destroyed the old temple. All that remains is one small marker in Hebrew and English. Some little prick has painted a swastika on the marker. I tried for three hours to think of a more polite word for the person who would do such a thing. You have read the polite form.

Jonathan received more bad news from the latest rounds of medical tests. Things look more bleak now than they have ever looked before. He will need to begin treatments that his body can't physically handle in order to save his life - it's a catch-22 and I'm unbelievably angry and hurt.

My voice cracks and I can't seem to keep on pitch. Sitting alone in an apartment that suddenly seems so massively huge, I sing the songs that have helped before. Number 707 has brought great comfort in the past, today it rings hollow and empty. Today the pain sounds more true.

And I feel like such a selfish prick. I have treated my body horribly - I've eaten whatever I wanted, exercised rarely, and drank cheap liquor - and I'm healthy. I'm healthy. I get to fully realize my hopes and dreams and one of my closest friends might never have that chance.

And the graves are well outside of the perceived boundary of the cemetery. The feelings and thoughts that I'm having are not the typical emotions I should encounter. They are well outside of the boundary - for people to find a hundred years from now.

Sermon #5

2010-06-16T03:52:00.000-07:00

This will be my last sermon before David and Shannon return. (I'll preach once in July and maybe occasionally through the fall - I have an idea for a sermon series I would like to write) so I should be able to get back to more regular blog posts soon.

In English we have many polite euphemisms for "sinful woman." I didn't use any of them. The adjectives I used are somewhat harsh and that is intentional. Too often we speak as though Christians are afraid of sinful people - I don't believe we should be. As followers of Jesus we should be more than capable of addressing sin head on, without the use of euphemism.

Now one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, so he went to the Pharisee's house and reclined at the table. When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee's house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner."
Jesus answered him, "Simon, I have something to tell you."
"Tell me, teacher," he said.
"Two men owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he canceled the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?"
Simon replied, "I suppose the one who had the bigger debt canceled."
"You have judged correctly," Jesus said.
Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. 47Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little."
Then Jesus said to her, "Your sins are forgiven."
The other guests began to say among themselves, "Who is this who even forgives sins?"
Jesus said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."

Our story picks up not too far from where we ended last week. Jesus entered the city of Nain and quickly made a name for himself by raising a young man back to life. A religious leader, a Pharisee, wants to dig deeper. He wants more facts before he makes his judgement call. Like Simon Cowell on American Idol - he just wants to hear a few more notes to decide if this person is the real deal or a sham.

You have to admit, it's all pretty fantastic. Jesus shows up out of nowhere and before he even says hello he stops a funeral parade to give a widow-woman her life back. So this Pharisee invites Jesus to his home so that he can get the rest of the story. He's not overly concerned with showing Jesus hospitality - he'll ask questions first and figure out if Jesus deserves to be treated like an honored guest.

Now last week we talked about a woman for whom everything had been taken. Today we look to a woman who gave it all up willingly. The widow woman didn't choose for her son to die. She didn't choose to lose everything. The woman today, arguably, made such a choice. She was known primarily by the sins she chose to commit. She chose to make her living on her back, and while most of the world would find sympathy for the widow - who cares about a prostitute?

Jesus shows up at the home of the Pharisee and is treated a little poorly. Jesus was a radical person, more or less homeless who entered cities and began teaching things that people had never heard before. He was probably used to being treated as less than the honored guest. Jesus was full of humility and took everything in stride. His own teaching was to sit at the place of least honor and wait to be brought to the seat of honor.

Jesus was probably sitting at a place of little honor, far from the host. If his hands had been washed at all, he was probably last after the water was already dirtied by several other more honored guests.

And then this woman enters through the open door. She is in all things, a contrast to the Pharisee hosting the dinner.

He is educated and respected. She is known to the whole community as the whore she is. He's righteous and faithful. She's slept with more people than she can remember.

The Pharisee is calm, cool, and collected. The woman is emotional and overwhelmingly forward. As a child he received an excellent education in the scriptures and old women would speak of the bright future he surely had. As a child she had been passed between male relatives or friends of her brothers.

These two would never be seen in public together.

She enters through the open door and immediately sees the One who can heal her heart and forgive her of her sins. Jesus was reclining at the table. In middle eastern cultures, you always sit with the flats of your feet facing out.

Feet are dirty and disgusting things. In some countries, showing the flats of your feet to someone is extremely rude. This was why it was shocking when Jesus had begun washing the feet of his disciples. Only the lowliest slave would wash feet - and apparently our Pharisee host thought that none of his slaves were lowely enough to bother to wash Jesus' feet, because by the time the woman entered Jesus' feet were still unwashed.

This emotional basket case of a woman rushes in and falls on the floor behind Jesus. She isn't even worthy for Jesus to see her face. She was a bad person. Where do you think she got the money for the expensive ointment in the alabaster jar? She earned her money pulling tricks and apparently she was quite good at her profession.

As she tries desperately to open the alabaster jar to anoint his feet , she realizes that his feet are already wet with her tears. Embarrassed she looks futily for a towel. Seeing none she takes down her long hair and begins to dry Jesus' feet with her hair. Of course, in their culture women always wore their hair up. Only a whore would take down her hair in the presence of men other than her husband. Knowing that she had tried her best and had failed miserably, she brought her head down and rested her face against his feet in utter failure. She kissed his feet, over and over again, until mercifully she managed to open the expensive bottle of ointment and began spreading it on his feet.

As she sat in a puddle of her own tears and saliva, with oil on her hands and throughout her mop of hair - she probably felt like the biggest failure in the whole world. Her panicked expression gave voice to her innermost thoughts – “why did I just do what I have done.”

We're completely unrealistic in how we map out our social interactions. We swear that we won't lose our temper. We plan a cautious dialogue and remind ourselves to keep a stiff upper lip. In the heat of the moment the gloves come off and we begin yelling. We say hurtful things we wish we could take back and we leave with tears in our eyes and acid in our throats.

For all of this woman's efforts to plan a casual, collected anointing of Jesus she failed miserably. She came off looking like a basket case whore - and as the room grew silent with the Pharisees' outrage she realized that that … was … exactly who she was.

Now the Pharisee had secretly hoped that Jesus was all he was cracked up to be. He had hoped that Jesus would prove to be a prophet after all. But as the disgusting, disease ridden prostitute but her lips on Jesus, the Pharisee decided that clearly Jesus was no prophet.

A prophet would know who this woman was. A prophet would know her despicable past and would respond accordingly.

But Jesus is so much more than a prophet. Not only did Jesus know the despicable past of the woman touching his feet, but he knew her beautiful future.

He knew the righteous woman of God she would become. He knew her present anguish in the face of her accusers and He knew the joy she would possess as she shared the good news with others.

[[Jesus breaks the silence by sharing a story of two men whose debt had been forgiven. The Pharisee must admit that the one whose debt had been larger would be more thankful for its relief.]] - - - I'm going to have someone read this parable out loud - or bring two people up to act it out.

Because this woman had been forgiven much, she will love much.

Jesus stands this woman up and assures her that her sins - her numerous, incalculable sins - have been forgiven.

And perhaps, after all that has transpired in this little dinner, this is the most shocking event for those gathered together. In these simple words Jesus claims his full divinity. Only God can forgive sins - and in this story we see God forgiving sins. The men gathered around the table that day witnessed God forgive sins.

I don't really know all of you. I don't know where you've been or how far you've gone. I'll never stand at a podium and decry others for their moral or sexual failures.

I won't go into details of my own sins, but I will say that I love much because I have been forgiven much.

When we look at ourselves we tend to dwell on the past. Our dark pasts seem to overshadow any hint of a future that lies on our horizon. We are not God. For God sees our hope and our future. God sees the promise of redemption in our sinful past.
Henri Nouwen shares the story (which I can’t find and might very well be butchering) of a woman who claimed to be able to speak with Jesus while she slept. A priest at her church wanted at least a shred of proof. He told her to ask Jesus, the next time she “talked with him” what he had confessed during his last confession.

Clearly this woman wouldn’t know the deepest darkest sins of the priest and she would be caught in her lie. The next day she came back with the answer she had received from Jesus. “I don’t remember.”

We truly believe that when our sins have been forgiven by Jesus Christ that He keeps no record of our wrongs. There is no secret list of dirty deeds that God keeps to remind us of our failures. We keep that list (and the devil keeps one for us as well ) and Jesus wishes that we didn’t.

Satan would love to keep you paralyzed by the reality of your past sins. Jesus wants to set you free – that you could live out your future and hope.

As Jesus said to the sinful woman anointing his feet – I know say the same to you.

Your faith has saved you. Go in Peace.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Hilarious yet oddly inspiring. Maybe I should shut up and stop complaining and enjoy life more.

2010-06-14T12:56:00.001-07:00

Zach's oprah deal from Zach Anner on Vimeo.

The real sermon #4

2010-06-08T11:33:00.000-07:00

Ok, I've gone back and forth a number of times about what to preach this Thursday. This is the third sermon I've written this week ... and I think it's the one I'm actually going to preach.

Luke 7:11-17 (Today's New International Version)
Jesus Raises a Widow's Son

Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."
Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.
They were all filled with awe and praised God. "A great prophet has appeared among us," they said. "God has come to help his people." This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country.

Some days we need to hear a tale of resurrection. Perhaps this is one of those days for you. If your soul is heavy, your heart is troubled, or your mind is tired – listen up. If everything’s perfect for you … well, I’ll try and work something in for you, too.

Almost everyone has lost someone close. Most of us have attended a funeral or mourned the loss of a relative.

When I was 8 years old my aunt died. By that age I had been to more than a dozen funerals and I knew the routine very well. Once I attended a funeral as a toddler. My mischievous Uncle gave me a wallet and showed me how to open it up and beg like a street beggar. I was a cute kid and came home with a nice chunk of cash.

When my aunt died, everything was different. I was old enough to really understand. I knew what had happened, I knew what death was – and I hated it.

The scripture today focuses on the widow of Nain. As the Bible describes her as a widow we know that she had already lost a husband. As Jesus enters her city, her only son is on the slab and about to be buried. Her culture treated widows terribly. A widow could inherit her husband’s property if she had children to take care of. If she had no children, her property would go back to her husband’s family. She would be left with nothing. No house, no income, no family, and no prospect for future love. No one would demean themselves to marry a widow. This woman had truly lost everything.

Sometimes in life it feels as though we have lost everything. When relationships come crashing down, while waiting on a diagnosis from a hospital, after failing a class, when we hear of an accident, or simply when a day has been too long and there hasn’t been enough sunshine.

At one point in my life;I had given up my job and my job security, I had no home of my own, my family was on the other side of the world, my friends were all on vacation enjoying the seaside, I became sick and had no one to take care of me, and then I got the phone call. One of my closest friends explained that he had cancer. It would more than likely prove to be fatal – doctors discussed his life in measurable quantities. Weeks, months, or years. I felt my world crash that day. I needed a resurrection story.

When Jesus saw this pitiable woman he approached her and said, “Don’t cry.” He walked over to her dead son and beckoned him to rise once more. The boy sat up and began speaking. Jesus gave him back to his mother.

This is a story of healing. Jesus physically healed this man by bringing him back to life. But this story is also one of spiritual, emotional, and social healing. Jesus restored life for this young boy – but he restored EVERYTHING for this woman.

When the people around Jesus saw this miracle they began to rejoice. Suddenly this stranger became their savior. He was automatically a prophet and God. This was wonderful. But sometimes we experience the opposite. When God fails to perform the miracle we demand, we turn our back. We cry and curse God for the failure.

The death of my aunt was especially painful because I had prayed for a miracle. I had prayed that she would be healed and she wasn’t. My magic genie Jesus failed to deliver and I was angry.
When we hear this story, I hope you think of the widow woman. She had lost everything – and Jesus gave it all back to her … and then some.

This body – this useless shell of a body – will pass away. When my friend Jonathan dies (and I really do pray that he will die decades from now, after years of us sitting together on a porch being cranky old men yelling at the neighborhood kids) we will rejoice in his obedience to God. We will rejoice that God restored him.
The healing in this story, and in mine, is so much more than a physical healing. “This story shows that healing is not simply about curing illness or raising the dead; it is about redeeming the entirety of human life in relationship with God.”

Because of the resurrection of Jesus, our lives are redeemed.

WE are the resurrection story.

When life is too hard and you need a resurrection story, look around at the people in this room. Look at the people who have been redeemed by the words of Jesus. Look to those who were spiritually dead until Jesus said, “Get up!”

And remember in all of your days, that when those around you are having a rough day – you are the resurrection story they need to hear.

This story is a beautiful reminder that we serve a God who heals. God still restores people, he raises the dead, and he cures the sick. And he uses us to do it. Pope John XXIII said, "Consult not your fears, but your hopes and dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what is still possible for you to do." The mistakes you have made don’t matter. God doesn’t view the forgiven sins and failures of yesterday – he sees the hope and future of tomorrow. God has a plan for you to help restore the people around you.

If you allow it, God will use your resurrection story to restore others. Go forth this day, and live life in such a way that those watching will be amazed at the Jesus who has raised you back to life.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon 4

2010-06-07T13:22:00.001-07:00

So, I didn't actually mean to post this. If you read this yesterday you read a rough draft. It's still not ready - I'll probably work on it a few hours tomorrow and Thursday - I might post an updated sermon before or after Pilgrims.

38As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
41"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, 42but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

We enter into a situation of sibling rivalry in our story today. We find ourselves with Jesus seeing an all too common side of human life. There were other sibling rivalries in the Bible – Cain and Able, Jacob and Esau – and they didn’t end so well. We enter the lives and we think we know the story – we think we have lived this story.
My sister and I are four years apart. When we were in school my sister was perfect. I say this not out of spite or in exaggeration, but simply as a fact. It’s ___________ outside today and my sister was perfect. My sister was a natural leader and an obvious teacher’s pet. She would grow up to be a doctor, and her academic resume reflect her future career path. She visited teaching hospitals throughout High School and sang and played her instrument in regional competitions.
I was not perfect. I was awkwardly shaped and couldn’t do many things well. I wasn’t a leader. I didn’t like school and my teachers knew it. I didn’t play an instrument well and I didn’t sing well yet. I did my own thing. I was artsy and thought outside of the box.
It was sometimes a miserable experience to grow up in the shadow of my big sister. I can’t count the times teachers explained to me how much smarter my sister was and how much better she was.
When I read today’s story I immediately tense up. He visited “Martha’s home.” Not the home of Mary and Martha … or even the home of Martha and Mary … but the home of Martha.
Mary was an afterthought. Mary could never measure up to her big sister. Perhaps she was a little lazy and maybe not as bright or put together as her sister.
Maybe Mary was all of these things – but she had her priorities straight. When she was interested or intrigued she followed her gut. When Jesus of Nazareth came through Mary realized that the dishes in the sink didn’t matter.
Jesus had just come from teaching. He had been out and about and a religious leader asks “Who is my neighbor.” He tells the story of the good samaritan. In the familiar story, 3 good people pass by one of their own and only the last, a political enemy stops to help the injured man.

The question is aked - who is my neighbor? Whom do I have to love? And Jesus resoundly answers … EVERYONE.

And in this setting, the all too familiar setting of sibling rivalry, the question is posed again - whom do I have to love? EVERYONE, even your sister. How often do I have to love? ALWAYS.

As a Christian, I need to love everyone. Even my perfect sister.

They say that sharing your faith with a family member is hardest. Witnessing to a stranger on the street is SO much easier than telling a family member that Jesus loves them. I think that Christians sometimes do street evangelism because they’re too scared to share real life with people.

I was taught once that if you have a hard time telling others about Jesus that you should look at yourself in the mirror. Say, Michael, I love you, and Jesus does too.

The gospel transitions from one setting to another. Whom do I have to love? A political enemy and a perfect sibling. How often do I have to love? Always.

I always read this story as though Martha finally got what she had coming. Final vindication for all the awards and diplomas my sister had earned.

I read the story wrong.

Jesus isn’t putting Martha down – he’s lifting Mary up. He’s teaching them to love one another and making them equals. I believe he’s teaching Martha to learn from Mary and Mary to learn from Martha. He’s teaching them to not jockey for position as leader; but to walk side by side – hand in hand as friends.

We see these sisters later on in the Jesus narrative and they are described as inseparable friends. They learned their lesson and began to love one another.

In college my sister stopped being so perfect and I grew up a whole bunch. Jesus has taught us to learn from each other and to walk side by side. I’m not in my sister’s shadow and she’s not in mine.

Some people see this story as an admonition that it’s better to sing praise hymns than to wash dishes. I don’t believe this is the case. Jesus commends Mary because she has lovingly accepted her sister for who she is. We all show love in different ways – Martha showed love by preparing the house and Mary showed loved by sitting and listening to Jesus – but Mary showed love to her sister by humbly accepting Martha’s show of love.

When we love others we accept who they are. We love our roommates even though they snore at night. We love our friends even though they do so many weird things. We love our families even though they are a little crazy. We love our sister even though she’s perfect.

This is the essence of the Gospel message. Love God, Love others. Love your brother, love a commie pinko, hug a hippy, share a meal with a stranger, live with less and give the rest away, worship God daily. This is the core of the message.

Do you know that you are the Gospel? You are the good news of Jesus Christ living in a sad world hungry for something more. Our lives open the Bible to thousands who will never crack the cover. To a hungry man, bread is good news. To a world that has never experienced unconditional love, your kindness is good news. You are the Gospel. You are the proof that Jesus rose from the dead 2000 years ago. Your life of loving service proves His divinity.

Go into all the world and love – even when it’s hard.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.